


I Reign With My Left Hand (I Rule With My Right)

by Sokkas_First_Fangirl



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (not between the boys), Alpha Brian, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Freddie Mercury, Brian's an emperor now whoops, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Happy Ending, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Medical Examination, Omega Discrimination, Omega Freddie Mercury, Omega John Deacon, Omega Roger Taylor (Queen), Protective Brian May, Protective John Deacon, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), Smut, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24237484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkas_First_Fangirl/pseuds/Sokkas_First_Fangirl
Summary: Freddie's family offered him up as a sacrifice of sorts; a bargaining chip, a toy. Something to amuse and please the Emperor.What no one expected was for the Emperor and his Empresses to propose marriage instead.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May/Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Brian May/Roger Taylor
Comments: 123
Kudos: 169
Collections: Queen Must Fuck Weekend





	1. The Empire of Ilios

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based on the "Empress AU" on my tumblr, a rather new AU that's been discussed the last few days. Basically, Brian is an Emperor, and is already married and bonded to Roger and John and they eventually agree to marry Freddie. Shoutout to Trinikins for starting the whole AU with their prompts! 💕
> 
> ***Trigger warning for this chapter: invasive medical examinations and the doctor in question doesn't explain what he's doing, nor care about his patient's comfort. Proceed with caution if this could trigger or upset you***
> 
> With that said, I promise none of the Queen boys will be mistreating each other, they just gotta communicate and build up trust.

_“My life is in your hands; I'll fo and I'll fie. I'll be what you make me. I'll do what you like”_ \- March Of The Black Queen, _Queen_

  
  
  


**Xerxes, The Bulsara Palace...**

If nothing else, Freddie was pleased that he didn’t look afraid. He barely recognised the boy in the mirror, glittering with jewels; even for a Prince, this was excessive. His sheer purple veil was studded with golden sunbursts and trimmed with gold lace, shorter than usual, only brushing his hips. Contrary to the usual custom, his sleeves were sheer, though they were still long, nearly covering his hands. He wore a ring on every finger and glittering bangles; his golden and amethyst earrings were so long they dangled halfway down his neck. His silken gold kurta was lower cut than usual, showing the heavy gold and amethyst collar, engraved with the Bulsara’s symbol, a phoenix.

The maids had spent the better part of the morning preparing him; they’d put so many scented oils and rose petals in his bath that his nose had stung. They’d brushed his hair until it shone and pinned it back from his face. His eyes were outlined with kohl, even his nails were painted and there was the faint shimmer of gold dust on his cheekbones. 

Normally, Freddie was much more covered. Normally, if he was called into the throne room his veil covered his face and brushed the floor. Usually, his clothes were much heavier and the servants rarely bothered with cosmetics.

Not now. Not when the Emperor of the Ilios Empire was here. Not when the Bulsaras were hoping that the Emperor would take a liking to Freddie, and agree to their offer of Freddie being his official courtesan.

_Courtesan_ was the polite way of putting it. In reality, they meant _whore,_ _pet,_ _toy._ And why? To secure an alliance. Money, power; to be backed by the strongest Empire in the known world.

For all their harping on about Freddie’s precious _purity,_ it clearly didn’t matter anymore.

“You look beautiful, my lord,” one of the servants said shyly.

_That’s the point,_ Freddie wanted to snap. _Can’t present the Emperor with an ugly toy, now can we?_ He wanted to tear all these lovely clothes off and kick them all out of his chambers. He wanted, for the first time ever, to be left alone.

As usual, it didn’t matter what he wanted. His father arrived only moments later. Prince Bomi was the middle child of the King and he eyed Freddie with his usual faint disapproval, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Good,” he said with a brisk nod. “You look-” He frowned, apparently struggling. “Good,” he repeated and offered Freddie his arm. Biting back a scowl, Freddie took it.

“Remember, do not speak unless spoken to,” Bomi told him. “You will kneel and only rise when the Emperor commands it. Keep your eyes lowered and don’t let me catch you sulking- none of this huffing and scowling nonsense, Farrokh.”

“Yes, Papa,” Freddie said dully. These weren’t new rules after all. “I remember.”

The collar felt horribly tight on his throat, choking off the furious and terrified screams he wanted to release.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The Emperor and his Empresses were already in the throne room when Bomi escorted him in. They’d even brought thrones with them, larger than his grandfather’s, golden and sparkling, studded with jewels and covered in soft cushions, so bright that it almost hurt Freddie’s eyes to look at them.

“Ah, there he is,” King Jaidev said, almost fondly. “Come here, child.”

Bomi released him and, steeling himself, Freddie walked towards his grandfather and the foreign monarchs. He stopped a few paces away and lowered himself to his knees, his head bowed, his hands neatly folded in his lap.

“He’s a credit to you,” came the Emperor’s soft voice.

“Your ambassador did not exaggerate, he’s lovely,” said one of the Empresses. Without looking up, Freddie couldn’t tell which one.

There were footsteps and then a pair of leather boots stopped just short of him. Freddie’s heart was pounding and, despite a lifetime of warnings, he glanced up.

The Emperor was standing over him.

He was a very tall man, strikingly handsome, elegant. His curly hair was tightly pinned back and his crown was so heavy that Freddie’s neck ached just _looking_ at it. His clothes and jewels made Freddie’s look plain in comparison. The richest, most powerful man in the world and, if the rumours were to be believed, one of the smartest.

Brian May. He’d taken the throne when he was only eighteen. Assassins poisoned his father. 

His vengeance had been swift, merciless and terrifying. 

He always seemed to be one step ahead of his enemies. Those who crossed him were swiftly crushed. 

Despite that, everyone knew he was utterly devoted to his Empresses. He loved them, no doubt about it. Everyone looked to their marriage as a prime example of what a marriage _should_ be.

So why would he want Freddie at all, unless he was looking for a toy? Something to occupy his time while his wives were pregnant.

With all those doubts and fears running through his mind, Freddie was shocked when Brian’s whole expression softened. The Emperor held his hand out and, barely keeping the surprise off his face, Freddie allowed Brian to help him to his feet.

“How old are you, Farrokh?” Brian asked, surprisingly gentle.

“Nineteen, Your Majesty,” Freddie said, still not lowering his gaze. “Nearly twenty.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” his uncle Sepehr said quickly. “We know he’s- well, not the youngest anymore, but he’s the only Omega in the family. And he’s innocent, we can assure you-” He broke off when Brian held an impatient hand up, gesturing for silence.

Brian glanced back to the Empresses, Roger and John May. They were as lovely as the stories said, dressed in matching emerald green robes and crowns, diamonds threaded through their hair. John was about the same age as Freddie, he knew. With his soft eyes and almost _shy_ demeanor, he looked even younger.

“What do you think, my loves?” Brian asked.

“I think we’re in agreement,” Roger said, crossing his legs with a little grin. John nodded, giving Freddie a surprisingly kind smile. Neither of them looked annoyed or impatient about this. In fact, Roger was eyeing him up and down, smirking openly.

Brian nodded. He hadn’t let go of Freddie’s hand. He turned to King Jaidev and the other Bulsaras, all of them waiting impatiently, though they wouldn’t dare show that impatience.

“We’ll take him,” Brian said and Freddie’s heart sank. He lowered his head in defeat, fighting the urge to snatch his hand back, the frankly _mad_ urge to claw at Brian’s face, to-

“We’ll get the courtesan contract ready,” King Jaidev said eagerly, but Brian shook his head.

“He won’t be a courtesan,” Brian said sternly. Freddie felt sick, so frightened and angry that it took a moment for Brian’s words to sink in; “He’ll be our wife. My third Empress.”

_What?_

His mother audibly gasped; everyone, from the King to the council, looked shocked.

“I- Your Majesty?” For the first time ever, King Jaidev was stammering, at a loss for words.

“I mean to marry him,” Brian said simply. He turned to Freddie and grinned. “I assume that’s well with you, Farrokh?”

Something about his mischievous grin and blasé tone finally unknotted Freddie’s tongue. He’d been living in a state of terror for weeks, told again and again that he’d be little more than a toy, the Emperor’s property to do with as he pleased. He hadn’t expected _this,_ not ever, not in his wildest dreams. His happiest fantasy was that Brian wouldn’t be interested.

So now that the terror was replaced by shock and confusion, Freddie snapped, “My name is _Freddie._ ”

“Farrokh!” Bomi barked. “For God’s sake child, on your knees and show some-”

But Brian was laughing. Roger was grinning and John snickered into his hand.

“Freddie,” Brian repeated. He raised Freddie’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “It suits you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**The Ilios Empire, Chrysos City...**

The famed golden city was in sight now and Roger was still terribly curious about Freddie. He was such a _quiet_ little thing, almost dainty in appearance. There were moments when Freddie’s eyes flashed with a hidden fire, moments when he snapped or was outright cheeky, but the young Omega always looked horrified with himself and would drop to his knees and apologise, even if it was a little reluctant.

_What did they do to you?_ Roger wanted to ask. 

Then again, the Bulsaras had been willing to sell him, to make him into little more than a toy. So Roger supposed he didn’t need to ask afterall. It was rather obvious.

In the two weeks it took to sail home, Freddie kept a wary distance from them. Perhaps he expected this to be a joke? Perhaps he thought they’d dock and he’d be forced into a courtesan’s collar after all, a toy to please and amuse the Emperor.

_He’s not like that,_ Roger wanted to say. _We’re not like that._

When the Bulsaras first broached the offer, they’d all been horrified. Selling a nineteen year old boy? They weren’t offering marriage, they were offering him as a _toy._

They’d decided, long before they set sail, that they wouldn’t be taking him as a courtesan. If they took him, it would be as an equal.

It wasn’t like Roger was expecting shocked gratitude, or even gratitude at all really, but he’d hoped that some of Freddie’s icy courtesy would have dropped by now.

But as Roger emerged from his cabin and onto the deck, he found his new fiance leaning over the edge of the ship, looking from the dolphins in the water, to the city and back. He was grinning openly, eyes shining. His hair flew about unbound in the breeze, no veil in sight, though he’d thrown a shawl over his thin shoulders. Two maids waited a few paces away, watching to make sure he was safe.

It was easily the happiest Roger had seen him so far.

Grinning, Roger went to him.

“Enjoying the view, Freddie?” he asked. His fellow Omega startled so badly that for a moment Roger had a horrifying image of the lad plunging off the ship entirely, but Freddie caught himself and turned to Roger with wide eyes.

“...I’ve never seen dolphins before,” Freddie said after a long pause. Roger leaned against the side of the ship, peering down at the water.

“There’s plenty around here,” he said. “On clear mornings you can even see them jumping about from the palace.”

Even from this distance, the palace was unmistakable, a veritable fortress of marble and gold, the green and silver flags of the Empire fluttering in the breeze. Freddie looked at it and the joy in his eyes vanished.

“What do you want from me?” Freddie asked quietly. He turned and looked Roger in the eye, holding his shawl closed.

“To marry you,” Roger said. “But first I’d like to get to know you.”

_“Why?”_ Freddie asked- no, more like a demand this time, his head held back, his shoulders straight. A Prince. 

“Well if we’re going to be married we should-”

“No, why do you want to marry me?”

Roger supposed he should have expected that question.

“Because what your family tried to do was wrong,” Roger told him. Simple as that. “The way they treated you was wrong. You shouldn’t be locked up and hidden away all the time. You shouldn’t be treated like a toy. They shouldn’t _sell_ you. And _they_ shouldn’t define your worth.”

Freddie looked at him, that defiant spark growing in his eyes. “Is this some sort of rescue mission?”

“If you want it to be,” Roger teased with a grin. When Freddie didn’t return his smile, he sighed. “Look, Freddie, we...You and I both know that if we had said no, they’d have found someone else, and we couldn’t stand the idea that you’d be hurt. I promise, whatever you’ve heard of Brian, it’s not true. He’s not cold and calculating. He doesn’t treat us like playthings, he _loves_ us. He doesn’t treat _any_ Omega like a toy, he’s always respectful. And at the very least, maybe we could be friends?”

Freddie sighed, turning away to look at the city again. “Maybe,” he said softly.

It was a start. It was clumsy and awkward, but it was a start.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Highness, your _veil,_ ” the Xerxian ambassador, Javad, said as the ship docked. Freddie was properly dressed now and although his hair was rather elaborately styled, it was also uncovered.

John saw his fiance take a deep breath, as though steadying himself, before he turned to Javad and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“What about it?” Freddie asked coldly.

Javad flushed, eyes darting almost nervously to Brian. “You’re not wearing one,” he hissed, as though Freddie hadn’t realised. 

“Hm, am I not? Oh well.” Freddie turned his back on the man and stood in line behind John. Smiling, John reached back to squeeze his hand.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Freddie kept his head bowed as he muttered, “Empress Roger said I don’t have to wear one if I don’t want to.”

“Fair enough, you don’t.” And he’d be expected to wear Iliosian clothes soon enough anyway.

The crowds cheered as they disembarked; people shouted their names and saluted, many of them trying to get a look at Freddie, their soon-to-be Empress. Freddie looked surprised by all the noise and John took his hand, tugging Freddie to his side, walking step in step with him.

“I know it’s a lot at first,” John said gently. “They used to terrify me.”

“But not anymore?” Freddie asked. He was watching a crowd of children scatter flower petals in front of Brian.

“Not anymore,” John confirmed. With a rueful smile he added, “Well, not _usually_ anyway. It can still be a lot.” Hoping to cheer Freddie up, he added, “But soon we’ll be in the palace; we don’t have to formally introduce you until this evening, so we’ll have a few hours to rest. We’ll introduce you to the children first, they’ll love you.”

For a moment, Freddie looked petrified by the concept and John could have kicked himself, but this Prince was stronger than he looked: he pressed his lips together in a thin line and held his head high as he walked with John, the opposite of what he’d been taught- of what every Omega was taught, really. 

_Curious,_ John thought, watching him. 

A pair of knights helped them into the carriage and as soon as they were seated, John took Freddie’s hand again. Brian and Roger sat across from them; their Alpha had an arm around Roger’s waist as he waved to their cheering people. Roger pointed sites out to Freddie, pausing every so often to acknowledge the calls of his name. Still holding Freddie’s hand, John waved with his free one, inclining his head to the cheering people. 

Freddie looked baffled, especially when he realised there were some calls of his name. He ducked his head, biting his lip; he almost looked like he was expecting an attack.

“Wave,” John told them gently. “Let them see you.”

For a moment, he wondered if Freddie would ignore him. For a boy who’d been isolated all his life, all this noise and all this attention surely came as a shock.

But Freddie once more surprised him. He looked at the three of them, took in their relaxed stances and happy smiles, and mimicked them. He flicked his hair back off his shoulders and followed John’s instructions to wave; John saw a pair of children waving rapidly, delighted to be noticed by their new Empress.

And soon enough, Freddie looked completely relaxed, like he’d been doing this all his life.

“You’re a natural,” Brian said approvingly.

Freddie glanced at him, his smile faltering uncertainly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“My name is _Brian,_ Freddie. That’s all you have to call me.”

Freddie looked doubtful, but he nodded, turning back to the people, craning his neck to get a better look at the gilded towers, peering at the other carriages curiously.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Daddy!” the second the doors to the nursery opened, Felicity flung herself into Brian’s arms. His eldest and his Alpha heir, she strongly resembled him in terms of her features, but her colouring was all Roger’s; she had long curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes and Roger’s complexion. Her little brother, James, followed at her heels; two-year-old Lianna toddled along behind them, going straight to Roger. John practically squealed at the sight of baby Rowan in his nurse’s arms, happily taking him and cradling him close.

Freddie lingered in the doorway, nibbling his lip; when he noticed Brian watching him, his hand flew up to cover his mouth.

“Who’s tha’?” Lianna asked, pointing at Freddie. “Mummy, who?”

“This is Freddie, Lia,” Roger said, grinning when Lianna pressed her nose against his. “Prince Freddie Bulsara.”

“Hello,” Felicity said brightly. Every inch a Princess, she curtsied with a sweet smile. “I’m Grand Princess Felicity May.”

“Hello, darling,” Freddie said softly.

“Freddie’s going to be an Empress too,” Brian told them. “Like your mothers. He’ll be living with us.”

Felicity looked highly curious, tilting her head like a little bird. Rowan, sucking his thumb, snuggled against John’s chest, his big green eyes trained on Freddie. 

It was James who well and truly broke the ice. He practically marched to Freddie and lightly tugged on the hem of his kurta.

“You’re pretty,” he said, as if that settled everything, and Brian had to bite back laughter. “D’you wanna play pirates?”

“Um-” Freddie glanced warily between Brian, John and Roger, seemingly asking permission.

Roger grinned and leaned down to ruffle James’s hair, still balancing Lianna with one arm.

“We’ll all play,” he said cheerfully. “You can show Freddie the rules, Jamie.” He looked to Freddie and his smile softened. “Okay?”

Freddie’s smile seemed more _real_ this time. Brian couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Okay,” Freddie said and let James drag him to the nearest toy box.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Of course, that evening was much more formal.

The official introduction took place in the throne room; royal banners hung on the walls, every courtier was dressed in their best; no one dared to so much as fidget or stretch. All their attention was on the dias. 

Brian led the way in, of course; his green and silver robes looked too heavy to move in, yet he walked with grace. He’d put his crown back on and his sword was strapped to his hip. Roger and John followed behind him, wearing their matching crowns. John’s hair was threaded through with diamonds and tiny gold ornaments, his rich green gown a bit more conservative than Roger’s; the sleeves were slashed and reached his elbows, the short train trailing behind him. Roger’s gown was more silver than green, backless with a slit up the side, almost translucent in places, but with all the diamonds and emeralds embroidered onto it, he all but glowed in the light of the setting sun.

_The Emperor’s greatest treasures,_ that was what everyone called them. Freddie could understand why.

He wondered what they’d call him. He wondered if he even wanted to know.

He walked behind them, escorted by Javad and a small group of guards and servants. He wore white from head to toe as was tradition in Ilios, with red accents for Xerxes; his veil was held in place by a surprisingly simple silver circlet, brushing just past his eyebrows. He was completely covered, his sleeves so long they brushed the ground when he lowered his arms, his neckline high the way he was used to.

Only when Brian was seated did they close the doors. An expectant hush fell as Brian nodded for Roger and John to sit. As he’d been prepared for, Freddie knelt at the bottom of the marble dias, on a velvet cushion and kept his gaze firmly on the floor, hyper aware of everyone staring.

“Your Majesty,” Javad said and knelt, for even Alphas had to kneel before the Emperor. “May I formally present Prince Farrokh Bulara of Xerxes, the royal family’s sole Omega and precious jewel. He is of an age to wed and bear children, a young Omega of virtue and grace. I speak in King Jaidev’s place this day, as I ask if you will agree to claim him.”

“I shall,” Brian said; his voice was strong and solemn, so different from mere hours prior. He stood and made his way down the steps to Freddie. No one had mentioned this part, what was Brian doing now?

Brian quietly told Javad to stand and the ambassador did, giving a slight grunt of effort as his knees creaked in protest. Freddie glanced up, being careful to keep his head lowered, but then Brian said, “Freddie, darling?” and Freddie finally met his gaze.

Smiling, the Emperor held his hand out. Gasps rang out as he helped Freddie stand. He wasn’t supposed to do this, Freddie was meant to stay kneeling the whole time, to not speak until the very end, when he was supposed to dutifully state his obedience and submission to Brian and the Empire. Brian was meant to make his speech about every dynamic having their rightful place, Javad was meant to reassure Brian again and again of Freddie’s obedience, virginity and fertility, they were meant to discuss the marriage contract. This was meant to be _business._

But now here he was, standing in front of everyone, with Brian holding his hand.

Brian turned to the watching courtiers with his now familiar charming grin.

“My lords and ladies, I’m sure this has all come as a surprise; you all know my Empresses and I love each other dearly. But when we met Prince Farrokh and saw his beauty for ourselves, we were honoured to have him. From here on out, you will refer to him as Prince Freddie.” His eyes narrowed, flashed with warning. “And you will show him the same level of respect and care that you show to Empress Roger and Empress John.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” came the dutiful answer, in hundreds and hundreds of voices.

“With that said, let’s continue.” Brian turned back towards his throne, and Freddie was in for one more shock: the Emperor turned to the nearest servant and nodded to the little velvet cushion. “Put that next to me,” he said. “I will have Prince Freddie by my side.”

Nothing could stop the shocked whispers this time. Javad outright gaped, clearly at a loss for what to do.

For once, Freddie could sympathise with the man. Shocked as he was, he still knelt by Brian’s feet.

Roger leaned towards Brian, eyes glittering with amusement. “Well, that’s one way to stop the gossip,” he whispered.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The very next day however, there was the exam.

Freddie was brought to the physician, where Roger and John were already waiting. Roger immediately took his hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. It didn’t help. Freddie still felt sick to his stomach; he hadn’t been able to eat any breakfast. He was shaking as he was led into a little side room and shed his clothes, slipping into a thin blue robe which he tied as tightly as he could. When he emerged into the cold room, the physician had arrived, and Roger and John were seated by the wall.

The physician was a Beta, somewhere in his sixties if Freddie had to take a guess, with thin grey hair and crows feet, especially when he smiled. His smile was almost paternal and Freddie had to fight to not throw up on the man’s shoes.

“It’s a routine exam, Your Highness,” he said. “Nothing to be scared of.” Freddie knew what to expect, they had the exact same exams in Xerxes: all Omegas shortly to be married went through the same thing. “Now,” the physician continued. “I understand this is- ah, _difficult_ for a modest young man like yourself, but I’ll need you to disrobe.”

_Do it,_ Freddie told himself sternly. _Stop your silly shaking and do it, don’t be so childish. Roger and John will be seeing you naked anyway, so get a grip._

Gritting his teeth, hot with embarrassment, Freddie untied the robe and let it drop to the stone floor, pooling about his feet. He heard John’s breathing hitch and he kept his eyes on the ground, flinching when the physician approached him. The man measured his hips, and quickly tutted, shaking his head.

“Hm…” He poked and prodded at Freddie’s chest, lightly rubbing and pinching his nipples, pressed down on his stomach. He made Freddie open his mouth and frowned more deeply at his teeth. Tears stung Freddie’s eyes and he had to close them quickly, before he really burst into tears. 

“On the table, please, Your Highness. Legs in the stirrups.”

Shivering, unable to so much as glance at Roger and John, Freddie went to the examination table and lay down, tears of humiliation in his eyes as he raised his legs into the stirrups. He had to close his eyes again as the physician stood before him, but it didn’t stop the tears from escaping. The physician’s hand rested on his thigh and a thick finger prodded at his entrance. Freddie bit back a sob, tensing, trying to fight the instinct to slap the man away from him.

“Lubricant,” came Roger’s harsh voice and the physician paused, one hand still grasping Freddie’s thigh.

“Empress?”

“You need to use some sort of lubricant,” Roger snapped. “You could hurt him.”

There was the briefest of pauses before the physician said, “Of course, Empress, I didn’t mean to cause offence.” Freddie kept his eyes firmly shut as he heard a jar open, shuddering in disgust when a cold, slippery finger slid into him.

A strangled sob escaped before he could stop it and he pressed a hand over his mouth, mortified. There was immediate shuffling and then John’s hand encased his left hand and Roger gently took his hand from his mouth to hold it tightly, pressing it to his lips.

“My Empresses-”

“Shut up,” Roger ordered harshly. “And do your job.”

There was another long-suffering sigh, and John growled, but the physician said, “Yes, my Empress,” and continued.

  
  
  
  
  
  


By the end, Freddie’s face was soaked with tears, his hair stuck to his forehead and he felt like he wanted to get in the bath and never leave it again. He couldn’t open his eyes, he couldn’t possibly look at Roger and John after this.

“He’s healthy,” the physician said, back to being jovial. “And a virgin, as the ambassador promised. Seems fertile, no cause for concern there. Teeth are healthy, if a little- hm, well, never mind. No signs of illness or deformities that I can detect, and he follows orders well.” His voice lowered. “But, my Empresses, he’s very small. Delicate even. His hips aren’t exactly fit for childbearing, it could cause difficulties-”

“I think you’ll find that’s the Emperor’s concern, not yours,” John said coldly.

“Thank you for your wisdom,” Roger said, dripping with sarcasm. “Now leave us.”

“I’ll bring my report to the Emperor, as promised.”

“You do that.”

The door opened and shut, and then the Omegas were making soothing noises, brushing his hair off his face and helping him to sit. With his eyes still shut, Freddie wasn’t sure which of them were helping him into his robe and tying it.

“I know it’s awful,” Roger said, kissing the top of his head. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Fred.”

“I want to go to my room,” Freddie said, fighting back a sudden fit of sobs. He thought of Brian and shuddered. This stupid, horrible exam, Brian was the _Emperor,_ surely he could have said this wasn’t necessary? “And I don’t want to see Brian.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


They went to Freddie’s chambers and John quietly ordered the waiting servants to draw a bath. As they waited, the three of them sat on Freddie’s bed, their fiance in between them, both of them with an arm around his waist.

John remembered his own exam; he’d broken down entirely. Compared with him, Freddie was holding up splendidly. He knew Roger had been in a similar state to Freddie after his own exam. Unlike John and Freddie, he’d been alone and wasn’t even allowed to be alone with Brian yet, deprived of any comfort his Alpha could offer.

Finally, a small pale Omega servant approached them on little slippered feet.

“The bath is ready, Your Majesties, Your Highness,” she said meekly, lowering her eyes in respect. “Would you like us to-?”

“Leave,” Roger commanded, not unkindly. “We’ll take care of things here, thank you.”

The girl hesitated uncertainly, but she fetched the others and they all trooped out.

“Come on, love,” Roger said gently, helping Freddie to his feet. “We’ll have a quiet afternoon and we’ll do _anything_ to make you feel better, I promise. We’ll lounge about, order whatever food you want- we’ll just relax, okay?”

Freddie didn’t react; his eyes were dull, his cheeks still bright pink. He barely even looked up until they entered the bathroom. It was a spacious chamber, an entire wall taken up by mirrors; the windows stretched nearly to the painted ceiling. The blue marble tub was large enough for at least six people, deep enough to swim in in parts, and the water was steaming, thick with scented oils. They’d even lit some scented candles.

“Would you like us to stay?” Roger asked, rubbing Freddie’s back. “We could wait outside, or…” He hesitated, as uncertain as John had ever seen him.

“Or what?” Freddie asked dully.

“We could bathe with you,” Roger said, his voice surprisingly shy.

John waited with baited breath for Freddie to kick them out. He expected tears, fury, accusations of taking advantage...But instead, Freddie looked at them both quietly, his face carefully impassive.

As the silence dragged out, Roger bit his lip, likely seconds away from taking it back, or apologising.

But as usual, Freddie surprised them.

His smile was a weak, shaking thing, barely there, his eyes still glassy, his eyelashes still damp with tears, but he _smiled_ and said, “We can try it.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


At first, Freddie held himself stiffly, his arms wrapped around himself, his legs firmly against his chest, tightly closed. However, when John began to run a hand through his hair he slowly relaxed.

After a few minutes, Roger edged closer. Slowly, so Freddie had plenty of time to move away or tell him no, Roger wrapped an arm around his fellow Omega, tugging him against his side. He smiled, more emotional than he expected to be when Freddie leaned against him, resting his head on his shoulders.

Freddie had been isolated all his life. Roger wondered if he’d ever gotten to spend alone time with other Omegas before.

“How can you stand it?” Freddie asked quietly. “They weren’t lying, were they? How can you _stand it_ if sex is anything like-” He broke off with a shudder, and John kissed his temple.

“It’s not like that,” Roger said. He looked at Freddie, tiny and frightened, and he wanted to sail back to Xerxes and rip the Bulsaras’ tongues out. His grip on his fiance tightened and John slid in closer to hold onto them both. “Fred, I promise it’s not like that.”

“Liar,” Freddie said with an edge of anger.

“No, Freddie, I mean it. It’s meant to be _good,_ it’s meant to be _fun._ ”

Freddie scoffed, frowning at the ceiling. John looked worryingly near tears.

“We’ll show you,” Roger said, kissing Freddie’s cheek, his shoulder. “I promise. We won’t hurt you.” Knowing the root of the issue, he added, “Brian won’t hurt you either.”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Freddie snapped, eyes darkening. “I don’t want to _think_ about him.”

John sighed, his fingers skimming the back of Freddie’s neck. Roger faltered, unsure if he should press the matter, or if it would just turn Freddie against them, turn him away from them before they could even get started.

But he took in Freddie’s furious eyes, the way his lip trembled with suppressed tears, and he nodded.

“Okay,” he said gently. “Okay. We can talk about whatever you like, Fred.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was much later in the afternoon when Brian arrived in Freddie’s chambers. The three of them were curled up together in Freddie’s bed, the heavy covers pulled right up to their mouths.

Freddie took one look at Brian and his eyes darkened; he twisted away, pressing his face against John’s shoulder.

“Are you doing well, Freddie?” Brian asked gently. Freddie didn’t answer, bristling, his nails digging into John’s arms.

“Freddie?” The concern in Brian’s voice was obvious to him, but Freddie clearly took it the wrong way because he sat up straight, though he tugged the cover up to his neck, clinging to it like a lifeline.

“I am well, my Emperor,” he said with ice cold courtesy. “Thank you for asking.”

Roger shook his head at Brian, but Brian was looking at Freddie and didn’t even seem to notice. “The physician said the exam caused some stress?” he asked.

John barely bit back a defeated groan when Freddie stuck his nose in the air, turning away from Brian.

“I’m sure I don’t know what he’s talking about, Your Majesty. I’m perfectly fine, just tired.” His voice hardened. “I’d like to sleep, actually, if that’s alright.”

“I- of course.” Brian looked bewildered and, sighing, John climbed out of the bed. Roger lingered, but Freddie pulled away when Roger tried to touch him.

“Sleep well,” Brian said, linking his arms with John and Roger’s.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The door closing behind them felt like defeat.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Their chambers were only down the hall from Freddie’s, and as soon as they were in their bedroom, Roger jerked away from Brian.

“He was _terrified!_ ” Roger snapped, simmering with rage. “He was fucking terrified, and that damn physician didn’t _care!_ He didn’t give a shit about Freddie’s comfort, he didn’t explain _anything_ he was doing, he wasn’t even going to use lubricant, Brian! Freddie’s been told all his life that sex is scary and embarrassing, that’s he’s just a _toy,_ and this fucking solidified it for him!” He paced up and down, running his hands through his hair, tugging it in agitation. “I know you can’t abolish every old law and tradition, but that bastard needs to be put on some sort of probation, he’s not fit to be around young Omegas!”

“What exactly happened?” Brian demanded, in what John privately called his _Alpha voice,_ low and commanding. “Tell me everything.”

They did and by the end Brian was ashen. _“Fuck,”_ he said quietly, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Whether it’s fair or not, he blames you,” John told him. No use in beating about the bush, they had to _fix_ this. “He’s convinced he’ll just be hurt.” His eyes narrowed. “We have to prove him wrong, Bri. Immediately. If he’s going to be our wife he needs to _trust_ us and we have to _earn_ that trust.”

“You’re right,” Brian said. He sat on the nearest settee with a heavy sigh. “I know you’re right.”

“Well, you’re the clever one,” Roger said, hands on his hips. “Start thinking.”


	2. The Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys try to gain Freddie's trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned out longer than expected, I really thought I'd get to the wedding in this chapter. There's a bit of smut towards the end though, so hush 😂

_“A voice from behind me reminds me, ‘Spread out your wings, you are an angel.’ Remember to deliver, with the speed of light, a little bit of love and joy.”_ \- The March Of The Black Queen, _Queen_

  
  
  


**The Ilios Empire…**

The first thing Brian did was follow Roger’s suggestion and take the physician to task. His Empress was right; clearly the man couldn’t be trusted around young Omegas, couldn’t be trusted to perform his duties with the level of care required.

So. Probation. Six months of being trained again, and another six of only performing his duties under careful watch from the other doctors and physicians, all under strict orders to report to Brian should the man put one toe out of line.

He’d hoped it would please Freddie, at least a little, but when he went to tell Freddie he was met by a little Omega maid, her hair in a bun. At the sight of him, she dropped to her knees.

“He’s sleeping, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice little more than a shy whisper. Hesitantly, she added, “Shal I wake him?”

For a fleeting moment, Brian wondered if Freddie was actually sleeping, but for all that he was the Emperor, he didn’t feel comfortable saying so. He took in the girl’s almost petrified awe, he thought of Freddie’s detached courtesy, the anger in his eyes...And he sighed, shaking his head.

“Let him rest,” he said. “Tell him I’m looking for him when he wakes, please.”

The girl nodded and promised she would. With one last glance towards Freddie’s bed chamber, Brian left.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Prince Freddie Bulsara,” the guard announced and Brian looked up eagerly from his paperwork as Freddie walked in.

The boy’s face was an impassive mask as he sank to his knees, bowing his head, his small hands neatly folded in his lap. 

“You wanted to see me, my Emperor?” he asked, his voice awfully flat.

It seemed that whatever small progress they’d made had been lost, and it made Brian feel surprisingly small.

“I wanted to check on you,” Brian said, setting his quill and papers aside. “To see how you are, sweetheart.”

“I’m well, Your Majesty,” Freddie said. He hadn’t looked up once.

“That physician is on probation,” Brian said, practically blurted it out really. He wasn’t used to feeling uncertain, he had to admit. “Six months of training again, and six months of only performing his duties with the other doctors and members of staff present. They’re all under strict orders to report to me if-” He broke off when Freddie scoffed. “I- Freddie?”

Finally, Freddie looked at him, his eyes blazing, his face stone cold.

“He shouldn’t have a job at all,” Freddie said harshly. “That- _examination_ shouldn’t be mandatory!” His voice rose, the loudest Brian had heard him be so far. “It’s demeaning, it’s awful, it’s-”

“Freddie, it’s necessary,” Brian said, a hint of pleading in his voice. “It’s tra-”

“You’re the Emperor,” Freddie said, turning away from him. “Surely you could simply outlaw it? If you believe I’m healthy, if you believe I’m a virgin, then why is there any need of it?”

“Doctors and physicians can find any illnesses or difficulties that we can’t see,” Brian said and winced. He sounded like his parents, and Freddie looked absolutely furious. “I can’t just abolish every tradition and law,” Brian said tiredly.

Freddie didn’t say anything. Somehow that cold, angry silence was worse than his admonishments.

“Do I have to do that often?” Freddie asked, still holding his gaze. 

“No, Freddie.”

“Do I have to do that again?”

Brian hesitated. “There’s- similar exams when you’re expecting,” he said haltingly. The spark in Freddie’s eyes died, but there was still that angry, stubborn clench to his jaw.

“It won’t be like that,” Brian said. “I promise, Freddie, I-”

“Yes, he’s on probation and I’m sure every single doctor in the palace is perfectly lovely,” Freddie said icily. And just like that, the Omega brought a new fear, a new worry to Brian’s mind.

This physician today had only been reported because he’d examined Freddie with Roger and John present. The physicians who’d taken care of Roger and John respectively had actually explained what they were doing and why, and gently encouraged Brian to look to his Omegas’ comfort...But even then, Roger and John had clearly been highly uncomfortable. John had ended up having a full-on panic attack.

There were other Omegas in the palace. Some who’d go through that exam alone, some who could bring a relative or trusted guardian or friend with them...But how many of them had been frightened, humiliated, and had been too afraid to speak up?

How many people had Brian let down?

“You make a good point,” he said quietly. “I...I’ll be looking into this. It would be a good idea to make sure they’re _all_ taking care of their patients.” He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers catching on the tangles and curls. He looked at Freddie and sighed. “Please stand, Freddie, you don’t have to kneel like that.”

Slowly, looking almost suspicious, Freddie rose. His small hands were clenched into even smaller fists.

“You’re right,” Brian told him. “I don’t know what the doctors are up to. I can’t just trust their word when they tell me they’re doing what they should. And I’m sorry you were hurt. I’m sorry you were afraid.”

Freddie’s eyes widened and he swallowed uncomfortably. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said, ducking his head.

“I want you to trust me,” Brian said. “And I know I have to earn that trust.” He just about managed to smile. “But I’m glad that Roger and John were looking after you.”

“They were,” Freddie said.

“Good.” The sunlight pouring in cast gold strands in Freddie’s hair, drew attention to his eyes. 

Brian was surprised by just how much he wanted Freddie to trust him. By how much he wanted him. 

By how much he wanted Freddie to want _him_ in turn.

Maybe it was the Alpha in him. Or maybe Brian was just selfish. A fool. He wasn’t sure right then.

But he what he did know, was that he wanted to make Freddie smile.

“They’re in the nursery,” he said, smiling. “If you’d like to see them.”

“I would, thank you, Your Majesty,” Freddie said.

“Then you may go.”

Freddie bowed low, his hands pressed together as was tradition in Xerxes and went to leave.

“Freddie?”

Freddie paused, his hand on the door handle. He glanced at Brian over his shoulder, faintly pouting, his hair curling about his face.

“I really am sorry,” Brian told him solemnly. “And I do want you to be happy here with us.”

He wondered if Freddie would be so bold as to ignore him. He wondered if Freddie would chastise him again. He wasn’t so foolish as to hope Freddie would blindly listen.

Freddie didn’t smile, but something in his gaze softened minutely.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he repeated.

“ _Brian,_ Freddie. My name is Brian,” Brian said softly.

“Brian,” Freddie said, like he was trying the word out. He gave Brian an almost confused look, eyebrows furrowed, and left.

As soon as the door closed, Brian buried his face in his hands with a groan. He wasn’t sure he’d felt so clueless since he first tried courting Roger.

Freddie didn’t trust him. Freddie had been abused and isolated all his days, it was no wonder he expected the worst, and it seemed to be well and truly solidified in his mind that he shouldn’t expect or seek out any happiness.

No matter what it took, Brian was determined to change that.

  
  
  
  
  
  


James lit up when Freddie was announced, leaping to his feet.

“Freddie!” he cried and ran straight to the Omega, throwing his arms around Freddie’s waist so enthusiastically that he nearly knocked him over.

“James, careful,” Roger chided. Felicity beamed at Freddie and waved rapidly, like she was afraid he wouldn’t notice her otherwise. Rowan squirmed in John’s arms, reaching for his wooden blocks. Lianna copied Felicity and waved before toddling after James.

“We’re playing,” James told him happily. He took Freddie’s hand and tugged him towards the centre of the room, where they were all gathered. “You can help me build a castle.”

“Thank you, darling,” Freddie said with a sweet smile. He knelt gracefully, spreading his long kurta out around him. Lianna cuddled up next to him, lightly tracing the pattern on his sleeves with her finger.

“Did you sleep well?” John asked.

“I did,” Freddie said. His wary eyes glanced between the children, and he handed James a red block. “And I spoke to the Emp- um, to Brian.”

Roger winced and John immediately looked Freddie over, hunting for further signs of distress.

“How’d it go?” Roger asked.

Before Freddie could say anything, John held a hand up and nodded to the children.

“We can discuss it later,” he said gently. “For now let’s just enjoy our afternoon, yes?” Smiling, he turned to their eldest. “Felicity, darling, why don’t you show Freddie that new song you learned?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


If Freddie had thought his own chambers were beautiful, then the ones that Roger, John and Brian shared took his breath away.

The floor was dark greek marble, streaked with gold and covered with thick, embroidered rugs. The ceiling was so high that Freddie had to squint to see the painted gold pattern properly. There were jewels _everywhere,_ embroidered on the curtains surrounding the four-poster bed, on the cushions, on the curtains at every window. They each had their own large, walk-in closet, each the size of Freddie’s bed chamber. 

The bed was on it’s own dias, large enough for six or seven grown people to lounge in comfort with a veritable army of pillows and throws. The walls were white and soft green, the wooden window-frames painted gold, even streaks of gold paint on the bed. There were paintings of the three of them and their children, paintings of the harbour, of the mountains, of the night sky. Freddie quickly counted five large bookcases and settees. 

The balcony was massive, stretching all the way around the left corner, filled with yet more comfortable chairs and stuffed sofas, with parasols to keep the sun off and little mirrored tables; he could see some empty goblets on one.

“Right, now that the children are down for their naps and with their tutors we can talk,” Roger said. He flung himself onto the bed, crossing his legs. There was a slit up the sides of his trousers and John idly stroked at Roger’s bare skin as he sat next to him.

Freddie dragged his gaze away from the treasures in the room and drooped. Surely Roger and John were going to be furious with him?

“I snapped at him,” Freddie admitted, looking away from them. “He was- he didn’t get angry with me, but I yelled a bit.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his own words rushing back to him. He’d snapped at the _Emperor._ He could lose his damn tongue for that! He could lose a hand!

_No. He’ll need you in one piece, won’t he?_

But...Was that fair of him?

A warm hand encased his and he looked up to find John smiling at him reassuringly. He was so surprised for a moment that he didn’t protest when John led him to the bed. He ended up in between them again and he wondered why the hell they look so amused and- _proud?_

“Good for you,” Roger laughed, tucking Freddie’s hair back off his face. “I gave him a right bollocking too, don’t worry.”

“That’s different, you’re his wife,” Freddie muttered.

“Well, you will be too. And he’s sorry you were hurt. We all are.”

“Were things sorted out?” John asked.

“I...Think so,” Freddie said slowly. He frowned, the mortification wearing away. Perhaps Brian was secretly furious and planning some humiliating punishment. But perhaps not. 

Freddie couldn’t tell anymore.

Brian had been courteous, even kind, this whole time. He hadn’t so much as raised his voice or lost his temper, not even once. On the journey to Ilios he’d been unfailingly chivalrous; not just to Roger and John, but to Freddie too.

That didn’t mean Freddie wanted to have sex with him.

_“I want you to trust me, and I know I have to earn that trust.”_

_“I really am sorry. And I do want you to be happy here with us.”_

_Alright then,_ Freddie thought. _Alright. Let’s see you try._

He already liked Roger and John. He felt surprisingly safe with them there. He’d never gotten to spend real alone time with other Omegas before, and he was surprised by how much he enjoyed it. But that was it, they _understood._ They’d once had the same doubts as him.

He was willing to trust them. But Brian? That was a different matter.

The Emperor spoke truly: he’d have to earn it.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Roger supposed Brian was right; it was best to start small. Much as he’d have loved to make a grand gesture, he knew it stood the chance of putting Freddie off.

Still, Roger couldn’t quite resist the urge to have a dozen roses sent to Freddie’s chamber the next morning.

Needless to say, he was delighted when Freddie turned up to breakfast with one pinned in his hair. He knew the grin he shot John and Brian was smug, he couldn’t help it. He immediately stood and went to Freddie, offering his fiance his hand. Smiling, Freddie took it and Roger raised Freddie’s hand to his lips, lightly kissing his knuckles, grinning all the more when Freddie’s cheeks flushed.

Beaming, Roger escorted Freddie to his seat, winking at Brian and John as he did so. John rolled his eyes but Brian looked faintly amused.

Halfway through their meal, Brian spoke up; “Perhaps you could join us in the gardens today, Freddie? We’re thinking of having lunch by the pond.”

The look Freddie shot Brian still held an edge of suspicion, though not nearly so hostile as the day before.

“That sounds nice,” Freddie said, turning back to his food. 

Hardly a success to jump up and down about, but Roger was happy anyway.

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was a beautiful day and Brian sat impatiently through a meeting with his council. Next to him, Roger fidgeted, scowling as one of the lords droned on about the harvest. John’s face was a mask of polite interest, though even most of the council looked exhausted as the man listed off about wheat, fruits, vegetables...It went on and on until Brian thought he might scream if he ever heard the word _wheat_ again.

And then Lord Beach, affectionately nicknamed Miami, spoke up, voice courteous as always.

“Perhaps we should discuss the wedding?” he asked. “We know it may take some months yet, but we should probably start a proper guest list.”

“I suppose we’ll have to invite King Sheffield,” Brian said reluctantly. Roger openly rolled his eyes and John scowled.

“Of course, my Emperor,” Miami said, inclining his head. There was a faint gleam of amusement in his eyes at their obvious annoyance, one shared by the entire council: none of them had any love for the arrogant king.

“Did the Prince’s examination go well?” one Duke asked, stroking his beard. “He’s a bit small, Your Majesty, but seems healthy. Obedient too.”

Brian stiffened, forcing a smile onto his face. “He passed every test,” Brian said, clenching his fists under the table. He thought of Freddie’s blazing eyes, his simmering anger, his plain humiliation and he couldn’t stand the thought of discussing it further.

“And he’s-”

“A virgin, as promised,” Roger said coldly. 

The Duke inclined his head politely. “We’re all happy to hear it,” he said.

“Moving on,” Brian said, biting back a snarl. “We can start on the guest list and entertainment, but the next time we discuss this we’ll bring Freddie along. It’s his wedding too, he should have a say.”

The only council member who didn’t seem startled by that declaration was Miami. The elder Alpha smiled approvingly, almost parental.

“And is the Prince settling in?” Miami asked; his concern seemed genuine.

“Slowly,” Brian said, wondering if even that much was true.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Some people said _picnic_ and thought of a small meal; a handbasket, a blanket, some sandwiches and cake, with sweet, cold drinks.

Not so in the palace.

The “picnic” was spread out on a large, low wooden table, and the servants had brought out plush cushions and blankets, parasols, and little bowls of water to clean their hands in. The entire table was covered in food and pitchers of water, pitchers of juice and pitchers of wine.

The beautiful weather, the sight of so many of his favourite comfort foods, combined with their easy view of the beach, was a sight that made Brian smile.

What made his heart skip a beat was the sight of his wives and fiance arriving together.

Freddie had pinned a fresh rose from Roger into his hair again.

The servants had brought out a chair for him, but Brian joined them in kneeling and Freddie did a quick double-take, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Everything okay?” Brian asked, slightly teasing.

“...Quite,” Freddie said, still looking at him like he’d grown two heads. At least he seemed more relaxed than he had before, sitting close to John.

The conversation was easy-going; Brian avoided any mention of politics, he refused to think of all the people he desperately didn’t want to invite to this wedding, but was obligated to. Instead, he and his Empresses told Freddie tales of their courtships, of their children and parents. Freddie seemed genuinely interested, smiling when they did, laughing at their antics, smile softening in sympathy when Brian explained his mother had died suddenly last year, declining ever since his father’s death.

“I don’t think she could live without him anymore,” Brian said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Freddie said. “It sounds awful.”

He didn’t want to dampen the mood, so he quickly changed the topic, telling him of the time Roger accidentally-on-purpose spilled wine all over King Sheffield. 

And he finally saw Freddie laugh, really truly laugh. The Omega’s head was tossed back, his hands pressed over his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut with the force of it.

“And then I curtsied and begged his pardon,” Roger cackled. “He had no choice but to accept, the prick!”

“He sounds hideous,” Freddie said, still hiding his grin behind his hand.

“He is,” Roger told him. “If he even says hello, spill your wine on him.”

“Maybe I will,” Freddie said with a slightly shyer smile. John chuckled, shaking his head fondly.

“You’re a bad influence, Rog,” he said.

“Terrible,” Brian agreed, poking Roger’s side. “Absolutely awful, you’ll lead poor Freddie astray.”

Roger winked at Freddie with his familiar cheeky grin. “Gladly,” he drawled.

It wasn’t lost on Freddie; his cheeks had that delightful pink glow to them as he glanced away, pouring himself more wine.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The welcome ceremony was solemn and dignified, but now there was a welcome _ball;_ John explained that the celebrations would last at least a week, maybe longer. They had important guests arriving, or sending gifts, and they of course had to show their joy to the world.

Freddie supposed it was also an excuse to show off their wealth and prestige, but wasn’t that always the case with royal courts?

Still, he eyed the Iliosian gown doubtfully. It was so _thin,_ so light; the neckline was relatively high, but it was entirely backless with short, fluttering sleeves. It was a deep red, and it came with a criss-crossed belt of thin gold chains, a gold armlet shaped like leaves and a matching circlet, as well as a ruby necklace, a pair of gold and ruby bracelets, and soft leather sandals that laced to his knees.

Utterly unlike what he was usually expected to wear.

He felt strange without multiple layers on. He was hyper-aware of his bare back and arms, constantly going to fidget with his sleeves, only to realise they were barely there at all.

He didn’t look _bad,_ he thought as he looked at himself in the mirror. But Freddie wasn’t so sure he looked like himself either. 

Strange, what a difference clothing could make.

The servants all seemed delighted.

“The Emperor and Empresses won’t be able to look away,” one said with a mischievous smile. “You look delightful, my lord.”

“Thank you, Abigail,” Freddie said, glancing at her. Her smile grew, delighted that he’d remembered her name.

_There’s nothing to be worried about,_ Freddie reminded himself. _It’s just a party._

Still, he felt dreadfully nervous when Javad came to fetch him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


When Freddie arrived on Javad’s arm, John’s breath caught in his throat.

“Oh,” he said softly, so softly he barely even heard himself.

He looked _divine,_ a vision in red and gold, in Iliosian clothes, _their_ clothes…

John spotted a pair of young Dukes staring and whispering and snarled, drawing himself up.

_Mine!_ his instincts cried. _Ours! Protect!_

Brian approached Freddie slowly, gently, like he was afraid of scaring him away. Perhaps he was, the gods knew John was.

“You’re beautiful,” Brian told him. He kissed Freddie’s knuckles but didn’t immediately lower the Omega’s hand, holding onto it, holding it to his lips. “Absolutely stunning.”

Freddie gave him a small smile, no real wariness or suspicion to be seen this time.

“Thank you, Your- Brian.”

Brian’s smile widened and he finally lowered Freddie’s hand, though he stayed holding onto it.

“Dance with me?” he asked.

Everyone was watching raptly, everyone was doing their best to listen in, eager to see the Emperor with his new Omega; they’d expected a toy, a public spectacle, and he’d brought home another Empress, someone they could look at but not touch, someone to be treated with honour and reverence. 

And now this. Brian, openly asking this new-comer to dance with him, to start the dancing, instead of asking his Empresses. It was no wonder they stared.

They whispered all the more when Freddie accepted.

John, smiling, offered Roger his hand. Roger took it with a grin, giving an exaggerated curtsy, and let John lead him onto the dance floor.

“He looks splendid,” Roger whispered to him as they danced.

“He does,” John said. Fondly, he added, “So do you.”

“Oh, always,” Roger laughed. His gaze slid back to Freddie and Brian, his interest obvious, his eyes darkening. “Gods, Deacy, he’s gorgeous.” Almost shyly, he added, “I want him to want us. I want _him._ ”

John thought of Freddie playing with their children. He thought of Freddie, tiny, quiet Freddie, being so bold, so brave, as to snap at an Emperor. He thought of Freddie laughing at their stories, asking them for more, his _genuine_ interest in their lives.

Freddie, with his beautiful eyes, his full lips; Freddie with his thick black hair and enviably thin waist. John imagined lifting him up, spinning him around until he laughed.

He wanted to stroll through the rose gardens with that boy. He wanted to get to know him, to break through that armour. He wanted to make Freddie smile and laugh, to make him feel safe, _happy._ To show him that not everyone would hurt him.

He wanted to show Freddie that he _cared._

He could admit that he wanted Freddie in their bed too.

“So do I,” he told Roger. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


As they parted ways for the night, Roger reached out and grabbed Freddie’s hand.

“Iliosian gowns suit you,” he said softly. His eyes darted to Freddie’s lips, to that sweet little smile and _fuck,_ he wished he could blame the wine on the urge to kiss him breathless.

“Thank you, Roger,” Freddie said.

“Did you have fun?” Roger asked, aware that John and Brian were waiting for him at the doors to their chambers.

“I did.” Freddie’s eyes brightened, and Roger didn’t want to let go of his hand.

_Friends first,_ Roger reminded himself. _Friends first._ That didn’t stop him from imagining pinning Freddie to the wall and kissing him, hitching those soft chiffon skirts up and-

“Roger?” Freddie was tilting his head, that faint pout on his face, that curious shine in his eyes.

“Rog?” Brian called.

“Can I kiss you?” Roger whispered hurriedly. Freddie looked wary until Roger quickly added, “Just on the cheek, Fred, I swear.”

That terrible wariness vanished, replaced by the tentative trust he’d shown Roger so far. He nodded, and Roger _truly_ wished he could say the wine was why he felt so giddy when he kissed Freddie’s cheek.

Freddie’s scent washed over him, flowers and spices, and Roger wanted to kiss his lips, his neck, he _wanted-_

Freddie stepped back with a smile. Not so shy now. More like amused.

“Good night,” he said softly, and disappeared into his rooms.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Roger groaned, tossing his head back and nearly knocking heads with Brian in the process.

“Careful!” his Alpha laughed, though he didn’t stop pounding into John, and Roger didn’t stop riding him, his nails digging into John’s hips. His wife groaned and squirmed, pressing down onto Brian and thrusting up into Roger, fisting at the sheets.

“Gods, love you,” Roger panted. He squeezed his eyes shut, losing the fight to keep them open. “I-” He broke off with another moan, breathless.

“Love you too,” Brian said, kissing his bond mark, nipping it and making Roger shiver. “Both of you, love you.”

Roger was perhaps the most distracted wife in the world, because he gasped out, “D’you think- _oh-_ d’you think Freddie will-”

“Will what?” John asked, pulling Roger down to kiss him.

“Want this,” Roger said, tweaking John’s nipple, grinning when his wife groaned. 

“Fuck, I’d like to hope so,” John gasped, half-laughing. Brian growled, picking up the pace.

“Imagining it, Brimi?” Roger teased, grinning at him over his shoulder, tossing his hair back.

“Yes,” Brian growled. John’s moans were getting high-pitched and Roger knew the look on his face all too well.

“Go on love,” he said, ducking down again to nip John’s bond mark. “Come for us.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


After, when they were all tangled together and trying to regain their breath, Brian spoke up.

“You two...Spent time together before the wedding,” he said slowly. He had an arm around each of them, frowning at the canopy overhead. “Maybe you and Freddie should do the same? I mean...It helped you, right John?”

“It did,” John confirmed. Roger hummed thoughtfully, idly tracing patterns on Brian’s chest.

“It’s something to think about,” Roger said softly. “It could help. Show him it’s not what his family told him it was.”

Maybe it was a silly, drunken idea and they’d brush it off in the morning...But for now, Roger wondered if it just might help after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will have to be three, maybe four chapters after all, sorry not sorry 😘


	3. The Empresses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie realises how many lies his family told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to "El Tango De Roxanne" a lot while writing this one, honestly. 
> 
> Some sexy times between the Omegas ahead; I can't write smut for shit, but that was the whole point of this challenge and I tried, don't judge me 😂

_“You've never seen nothing like it, no, never in your life; like going up to heaven, and then coming back alive.”_ \- March Of The Black Queen, _Queen_

  
  
  


So it turned out to not just be a silly, drunken idea.

Perhaps it was still an awfully mad idea, but perhaps it would work? It had helped John, maybe it would help Freddie?

All they could really do was ask.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Breakfast was a private affair. Just the four of them and the children. They sat at a heavy marble table and the children were escorted in by their nannies and two guards. Felicity, ever the little leader, curtsied to her father, mothers and soon to be step-mother with a bright smile. James gave a somewhat wobbly bow. Lianna and Rowan would be eating in the nursery.

James went straight to Freddie. “May I sit next to you, please?” he asked, very proper indeed, and Roger couldn’t bite back a grin. Nor, it seemed, could Freddie; he grinned widely, his hand flying up to hide his teeth, quickly shutting his mouth too.

“Of course, darling,” he said. James beamed and sat next to him, spreading his napkin out over his lap. Felicity sat next to Brian, already chatting about the dream she’d had and her plans for the day, what lessons she had.

“They adore you already,” John said to Freddie. “All of them.”

Freddie smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at James and Felicity. “They’re sweet,” he said. 

“They are,” John agreed happily. He watched as James kept pestering Freddie for his attention. Biting back laughter, he leaned in to Freddie to whisper, “I think our son wants to steal you away.”

Freddie snickered into his hand, eyes bright. “Oh maybe he’s succeeding, darling; he’s such a little gentleman.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


They brought it up when the children were led away.

“We had an idea last night, darling,” Brian said, clasping his hands together on the table. His hair was tightly tied back, struck through with pins to keep his wild curls in place, his crown catching the morning light. “We thought it might be a good idea for you to spend some time with Roger and John.”

“Aren’t I already?” Freddie laughed.

“Well- more like what we did after the- the examination,” John said. Freddie’s eyes dimmed at the mention of the examination, but he looked curious.

“You mean the bath?”

“We could do that again if you’d like,” Roger said with a smile. “But not just that. You see, before our wedding, John and I spent a lot of time together. Just us, to help calm some of John’s fears about the wedding night.”

Realisation crossed Freddie’s face. All he said was, “Oh.”

“Just...To help you feel more comfortable,” Brian said. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, of course, but- just a suggestion, really. It might help?”

For a moment, John wondered if Freddie was going to freeze them out again. He couldn’t read the look on Freddie’s face at all.

To his relief, Freddie nodded, albeit briskly, his eyes guarded. “I suppose we could try something like that,” he said.

  
  
  
  
  
  


They ended up bathing together again.

Freddie hadn’t really _looked_ at them last time. He’d been too upset to focus on anything much, he’d kept closing his eyes and trying to steady himself. This time, however, he wasn’t upset. This time he was perfectly well and he was suddenly very conscious of the fact that- well. They were naked.

And God help him, but Roger and John were gorgeous.

It took every ounce of his self control to not look below the water line.

If his family could see this, he’d be beaten. He’d have been caned or belted, and publicly declared a slut. Then he’d have been locked in his bedroom for a week, not even allowed onto the balcony.

But his family weren’t here. They were in Xerxes, Freddie was in Ilios. Freddie was engaged to be married, not just to Brian, but to John and Roger too.

And he trusted them.

So Freddie let himself relax, lounging in the water; he tilted his head back, resting it against the edge of the bath and closed his eyes. The tension drained from him; there was a little voice in the back of his head, a voice that sounded almost like his mother, that told him he ought to be ashamed of himself; he should be embarrassed, he should cover up.

He brushed it aside, making a conscious effort to ignore it. A lifetime of being told he was little more than a bartering tool, a pretty doll to dress up, didn’t just go away in a few weeks....But he could try. He wanted to try. Bizarre as Ilios often seemed, he was at least enjoying his fiances’ company. Even Brian’s.

He was still quite glad it was just the three of them right now though. Spending quality time with other Omegas was new, but he loved it.

Freddie opened his eyes at John’s quiet groan. He half-expected to see something scandalous, but Roger was just massaging John’s shoulders- and when had a sight like that become _‘just?’_ A few weeks ago, he’d have been mortified by the sight. Truth be told, Freddie wasn’t sure _how_ to react.

Roger poured more scented oil onto his hands and went back to massaging John’s shoulders, lightly trailing a finger down his spine. He looked at Freddie and winked.

“Want one?” he asked. “It really helps you to relax, promise, Fred.”

“It does,” John chimed in, looking and sounding utterly blissful. 

There was that voice again, telling him to gather his robe and leave the bath right now. Telling him this was shameful, sinful, and he’d be little better than a whore if he continued.

Freddie pushed it back again. It didn’t _look_ shameful. John really looked like he was enjoying himself. They’d have some masseurs in Xerxes; his grandfather had a personal one, that always helped with a persistent pain in his shoulder.

Freddie had, of course, never been allowed to have one.

He was curious.

So he smiled back at Roger and scooted in closer. He resisted the urge to draw his legs up against his chest.

“Okay,” he said. “It looks nice, darling.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Roger wasn’t daft, he knew what a huge improvement this was, what a big step it was.

Honestly, he’d been surprised when Freddie agreed to another bath. He’d expected that to take longer: after all, Freddie wasn’t upset and in need of comfort anymore, surely his old teachings would kick in, and make him step back?

It had been a surprise, but a pleasant one.

Just like now.

Roger felt like he was handling something priceless. He couldn’t say he was in love with Freddie, not yet, but he could easily see himself being some day. But he cared for him, and he cared deeply.

Freddie sighed as Roger massaged him, tilting his head back; his hair was damp from the steam, his eyes fluttered closed. Roger leaned forward to kiss his cheek, grinning when Freddie smiled, relaxing in his arms.

“Told you so,” John said with a little smile, not that Freddie could see it right now. He leaned against Roger’s side, twisting a strand of Freddie’s hair around his finger. “Alright, sweetheart?”

Freddie hummed in response, nodding. “Yes,” he said, almost sleepily.

“Yeah, Rog is magic like that,” John said. For a moment, Roger thought John almost looked _wary,_ his expression momentarily guarded. Gods, he wasn’t annoyed at Roger for this, was he?

But then John moved forward and kissed Freddie’s shoulder, his hand moving under the water to rest on Freddie’s leg.

Roger braced himself for Freddie to pull back, to squirm away; maybe demand for them to leave.

He didn’t. Although he tensed for a moment, he didn’t say anything; when John kissed the juncture between his neck and shoulder, where his bond mark would soon go, he leaned back against Roger’s chest with a barely audible sigh. 

Massage forgotten, Roger wrapped his arms around Freddie’s waist, pulling his Omega back against him properly, nuzzling at his neck and shoulder. Freddie _definitely_ tensed when he felt Roger pressed against him.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want us to do,” Roger promised him again. “You can say no at any time, Freddie.”

“You don’t have to- to offer some flowery explanation,” John added. “Just _no_ or _stop._ ”

Freddie’s eyes were wide open now, staring them both down. Roger didn’t dare say anything else yet, waiting for Freddie to speak first.

“I don’t want to do anything else,” he said, surprisingly firm; a commanding little Prince, despite it all, and it made Roger smile. 

“But is _this_ okay?” John asked, his thumb grazing Freddie’s cheekbone. “Right now? Do you want us to stop?”

Roger could admit he felt stupidly happy when Freddie gave that familiar shy smile, a defiant gleam in his lovely eyes.

“I like it,” Freddie said. He managed to hold their gazes for only a few more seconds, glancing away towards the windows. “It’s- nice.”

“Hm, that it is,” Roger agreed, kissing his neck again. 

“That’s one word for it,” John teased lightly. He cupped Freddie’s cheek in one hand, gently turning the Omega back to face him. Freddie looked surprised for a moment, raising an eyebrow, silently asking _What now?_

John kissed him, one hand tangled in Freddie’s hair, the other still cupping his cheek. 

It was Roger who was in for a surprise this time; Freddie leaned into it, his eyes closing again, his hands gripping John’s shoulders.

_Damn, they’re a sight,_ Roger thought, his hands lowering to Freddie’s hips, holding on tight. It was getting persistently hard to ignore his own arousal: he had his gorgeous fiance on his lap, he was watching his beautiful wife kiss their fiance senseless, and all of them were naked, crowded on top of each other.

_Not yet,_ he reminded himself sternly. _You don’t touch him until he wants to._

And then a new thought arose, loud and clear, mischievous: _Brian won’t know what hit him._

  
  
  
  
  
  


They ended up laying on Freddie’s bed again, all of them only in their silk bathrobes, lounging on top of the covers, surrounded by decorative pillows. Freddie idly flicked one of the sapphires sewn onto the pillow next to his head. His robe drooped open, and John could hardly be blamed for looking at Freddie’s chest.

“Does Brian make you do that?” Freddie asked quietly, eyebrows furrowed. “Is that why he suggested it?”

“He doesn’t make us do anything,” Roger said; he was spooning Freddie and his grip noticeably tightened. “We’re in love too, Fred. We’re together because we _want_ to be. It was my idea to spend time with John before our wedding; I knew having sex with one person could be nerve-wrecking enough, let alone with two. And Brian understood that there’s _three_ of us, and you’ve...You’ve always been told that it’s bad. We just want to show you it’s not.”

“There’s Alphas who _would_ order such a thing,” John acknowledged. He thought of King Sheffield, and his right-hand man, the Duke Ray Foster, and shuddered. “But not our Brimi.”

“He wouldn’t say _no_ to a show, granted,” Roger snickered.

Freddie didn’t smile. That familiar fire was back in his eyes, simmering. For a moment, they almost looked golden.

“Fred, all three of us are in love,” John said; he kept his tone gentle, reassuring but- he hoped- firm. “It’s not just about what our Alpha wants. It’s about what _we_ want too. Our pleasure matters. _Your_ pleasure matters.”

“We can’t have sex with you yet,” Roger said ruefully; he truly looked disappointed. “The first time _does_ have to go to Brian. But...If you’d be interested, like we said, there’s _plenty_ of things we could show you.” His hand crept just inside of Freddie’s robe and although Freddie slapped his hand away, he was smiling again.

“I was terrified,” John told him. He kissed him again, thrilled when Freddie pulled him in closer. _Progress._ John pulled back, grinning. “Being with Roger helped me. We’re hoping we could help you too.”

“And if you say the word, we’ll stop right away,” Roger promised. “Otherwise…” He lightly tugged at Freddie’s sash. “I wouldn’t mind taking these off again.”

Freddie nodded and Roger’s next breath came as a shudder as he untied the sash, tugging the robe off Freddie’s shoulders. Biting his lip to hold back a smile, John leaned back to shrug off his own, lightly kicking it off the bed. When Freddie was properly stripped, Roger undid his own robe, carelessly tossing it over his shoulder, quickly laying back down to pull their fiance back into his arms with a grin.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“How was today?” Brian asked at dinner.

Roger ducked his head with a grin. Freddie quickly gulped his wine, so it was down to John to answer. “Good,” he said, smiling. “We had fun.”

Brian looked pointedly at Roger. “And did this one behave?”

“Oh as much as he ever does, love.”

More seriously, Brian quietly asked, “And Freddie?”

“He’s okay,” John reassured him. “He really opened up, I think it helped.”

“Good,” Brian said with a relieved smile. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was nearly two weeks later when Freddie asked, “What _does_ Brian ask you to do?”

“Hm?” Roger leaned up on one arm, turning to face him. “What do you mean?”

“You said he doesn’t _make_ you have sex for him,” Freddie said, haltingly. He was looking rather red, not quite looking at them. “But does he ever ask you to?”

“Sometimes,” Roger said. Grinning, he added, “Sometimes it’s not sex; sometimes he’ll ask us to-”

“Play with each other,” John cut in with a fond laugh. “That’s usually what he calls it, the old man.”

“And you really do want to?” Freddie asked, almost urgently. _“Really?”_

“We do,” Roger said. “And if we say no, he drops it.”

Freddie nodded, sighing in relief. He turned back to the ceiling, hands folded across his stomach. “So...What does that mean?” he asked. “Playing with each other? What’s that mean, darlings?”

Roger looked at John and grinned. John couldn’t hold back a grin of his own, quickly kneeling on the bed.

“We could demonstrate,” Roger offered, faux-innocence, faux-casual. His heart was pounding, he could admit that.

Freddie frowned at them, perhaps suspicious of their open glee, but he nodded.

“Alright,” he said. 

Needing no further prompting, Roger swooped down to kiss him, shuffling Freddie to the centre of the bed.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Freddie was already wondering if this was an awful idea. Roger’s hands were making quick work of the buttons on his kurta, pushing it open, shoving it off his shoulders, halfway down his arms. John knelt just behind him and took his hands, squeezing reassuringly.

“Remember,” he said gently. “Tell us no, or stop.”

Freddie nodded, not quite able to get words out. He didn’t trust his voice to stay steady. His breath completely left him when Roger tugged his trousers and underwear down: three sharp tugs and Freddie was stripped from the waist down; his kurta was half hanging off him, rucked up uncomfortably.

He half wondered if he should offer to take it off properly, or maybe back out entirely, when Roger’s hand wrapped around his cock; a high-pitched moan escaped him before he could stop it, and he bit his lip, mortified.

“Gorgeous,” Roger breathed.

“You’re okay,” John said, squeezing his hands. “You’re okay, love, we’ve got you.”

Freddie tried to think of a response, truly he did, but then Roger’s mouth was on him and all he could manage was a strangled scream; his hips jerked, his legs spread of their own accord, and Freddie promptly forgot every word he knew in every language he knew.

Whatever madness had taken hold of him, he’d gladly follow it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


John didn’t think he’d get tired of this sight. Certainly, he’d watched Brian fuck Roger; he’d watched Brian suck Roger off, eat him out, spank him when he was cheeky. And vice versa. Roger had watched John ride Brian, or squirm desperately on their Alpha’s fingers, edged until he broke down and begged.

Not to say he was tired of _that._ Gods no! But this...There was something _different_ about this. This wasn’t even like the times they had sex alone.

Maybe it was because Freddie was often so reserved, so wary, but John couldn’t look away from him. Their fiance was moaning and gasping, simultaneously trying to twist away from Roger and pushing towards him, his nails digging into John’s skin. He was a sight to behold, blushing brightly, eyes squeezed shut, hair fanned out around him. 

John groaned quietly, biting his lip when he looked at Roger. He didn’t doubt his wife would be terribly smug about this. John couldn’t say he blamed him.

“R-Rog…” Freddie gasped, one leg wrapping around Roger’s waist. “I-”

“Close?” John asked. Freddie hesitated, but he nodded, eyes squeezed shut even more tightly, gritting his teeth.

John smiled, his thumbs rubbing across Freddie’s lips. Despite the awkward angle, he leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“He’s close, Roggie,” he said, almost conversationally. Freddie moaned, half-mortified, half-aroused, or so it seemed to John.

Roger hummed in response his grip on Freddie’s hips tightening; John didn’t doubt they’d leave marks. He only had a brief moment to wonder if Freddie would be okay with that, when Freddie tensed and all but sobbed _“Roger!”_ his hips rolling, his chest heaving; he was shaking as he came, gasping as Roger worked him through it. His nails dug into John so hard it hurt, and John barely noticed, far too preoccupied, his mind screaming _Freddie, Freddie, Freddie._

It was only when Freddie whimpered, half-twisting away that Roger pulled back. Sure enough, he was flushed and absolutely gleeful, eyes shining, grinning broadly.

“Are you alright?” John asked, finally releasing Freddie’s hands. He shuffled down to lay next to him, throwing an arm around his waist. Roger sat on Freddie’s other side, concerned and sweet- and still far too triumphant if you asked John.

Freddie nodded, still catching his breath. His eyes fluttered open, dark and dazed, gorgeous.

Smiling, Roger kissed him, lazily thumbing his nipple, grinning outright when Freddie gasped.

“Have you ever done that before?” he asked, more gently. "Climaxing, I mean?"

Freddie nodded again; quietly, he managed, “I’m not entirely clueless, darling,” with a breathless giggle.

“You looked _beautiful,_ ” John told him, brushing his hair back. 

“So- that’s what Brian asks you to do?” Freddie asked, curling up against John’s side.

“Hm, one of the things.”

John could admit, he was delighted by the open curiosity on Freddie’s face.

“Ooh, we could show you that too,” Roger said mischievously, kissing Freddie’s shoulder, entwining their hands. 

“Leave him be,” John chided, albeit gently. 

Needless to say, he got a delightful surprise when Freddie mumbled, “Maybe later.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


There was a knock on Freddie’s door; one of the maids opened it to reveal one of Brian’s personal servants standing there. He held a little painted porcelain vase with a bunch of yellow freesias.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” he said, bowing. “The Emperor sends this for you, and asks if you’ll join him for a walk in the gardens, after lunch.”

The maid held her hands out for the vase, but Freddie went to the door and took it himself.

“Thank you,” he said. “What’s your name, dear?”

The servant blinked rapidly, seemingly taken aback. “Oh, er- Thomas, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Thomas,” Freddie said, and the poor lad looked staggered. “And thank the Emperor for me, and tell him I’ll see him after lunch.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Thomas bowed again and left, hurrying back to Brian.

Freddie looked at the flowers. He hadn’t mentioned they were some of his favourites- at least, he was pretty certain he hadn’t. Talk about good luck. And the vase was such a pretty, delicate thing, Freddie was afraid it would smash if he held it too tightly. It was painted with a garden scene; a beautiful, vibrant garden, with little figures strolling through it, crossing over a little bridge over a bright blue stream. Freddie could even see some miniscule cats rushing through the painted garden, and he knew he was grinning like a fool, he couldn’t help it.

He hadn’t gotten to spend much one-on-one time with Brian. He hadn’t wanted to at first and Brian had, to Freddie’s surprise, honoured that. 

It was only a walk, but…

Freddie glanced at the kurta the maids had laid out. It was heavy and long, and covering. Pretty, but he’d be stifling soon, he knew that all too well.

“Can you lay out some Iliosian clothes, dears?” he asked. The servants looked surprised, but had the good sense to not say anything, quickly rifling through Freddie’s wardrobes and chests, while Freddie set the vase of flowers on the nearest windowsill.

He ended up choosing a short chiton, light and sleeveless, and a pair of fitted yellow pants, the hem embroidered with lapis lazuli beads. A sash of the same bright blue pulled the chiton tight against his body. They threaded jewels and jasmine through his braids, the rest of his hair loose and tumbling down to his shoulders.

His family would have a fit if they could see this, Freddie knew. Javad certainly would.

_Good,_ Freddie thought, narrowing his eyes. He looked in the mirror and lowered the brooches holding the chiton’s shoulder straps in place; it was only by a few inches, but the neckline was suddenly swooping.

Smiling, Freddie thanked the servants and made his way to the children’s nursery.

He had no reason to be ashamed, he reminded himself. This was just what he looked like. He didn’t have to wear a hundred-and-one layers just to make other people happy. 

Besides, his family had intended to sell him as a courtesan. Had that gone ahead, Freddie wouldn’t be wearing any clothes at all. 

_They can’t have it both ways,_ he told himself. He walked with his head high, his shoulders back, smiling at every servant and courtier he passed, a pair of his own servants hurrying along behind him. He felt giddy when everyone bowed, wishing him good morning, telling him he looked well in yellow. _They can’t tell me to be ashamed of my body and try to sell me as a whore._

He almost hoped his family would come to the wedding after all. Let them see Freddie happy, let them see him marrying the most powerful people in the world. Maybe they’d die of shock on the spot.

And maybe Freddie was an awful son and grandson for it, but he almost hoped for it.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Brian grinned when he saw Freddie approach. He looked vibrant, thrumming with energy; the bright colours suited him, Brian thought. He looked _happy._

Only four days ago, when Brian asked his Empresses and fiance how their day had gone, all three of them burst into a fit of giggles.

“Well,” Roger had told him. His hand had stroked over Freddie’s hip and Freddie’s eyes brightened when Roger kissed him. “ _Very_ well indeed, Bri.”

Brian had looked to Freddie for confirmation, and his Omega had blushed further, giggling almost hysterically, unable to look at any of them.

It wasn’t until they were in bed that Brian found out what _very well indeed_ meant. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised. He’d half-expected tales of tears and fear.

He was damn well relieved that wasn’t the case.

Freddie knelt in front of him, but unlike before he smiled up at him, his hair curling about his face.

“What have I told you?” Brian asked fondly, drawing his fiance to his feet. “You don’t need to kneel for me.”

“Habit,” Freddie said with a bashful shrug. Brian offered his arm and Freddie took it.

“I know,” Brian said, leading Freddie towards the rose gardens. “But you’re going to be my Empress, Freddie. Unless it’s a formal setting, you don’t need to kneel.”

Freddie peered up at him with a faint little pout, before smiling again. “I believe you,” he said, simple as that, and Brian nearly sagged in relief. 

It was only when they were in the rose gardens, with no gardeners or courtiers about, that Brian asked, “Your time with Roger and John is helping?”

There was a lovely pink blush to Freddie’s cheeks, but his smile widened, even as he ducked his head.

“It is,” he said.

Brian grinned at him, squeezing his arm. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad.”

“I’m still nervous,” Freddie admitted. “But I- I’m not as frightened as before. It’s not...It’s not what I thought it was.”

They stopped at a bench and sat. Freddie fiddled with his bangles and Brian watched him, wondering what to say or even how to say it.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he settled on.

Freddie looked at him sideways with that pout again, a look that almost said _Obviously._ A look Brian was quite certain he’d picked up from Roger.

“I know,” Freddie said. 

“You were right,” Brian told him. “About some of the doctors and other physicians. They’re all under probation; they’re all being trained again. One wrong move, and they’ll be removed.” He sighed, drumming his fingers against the bench. “I wish- I wish I could have seen it for myself. I wish it didn’t take you being hurt for me to investigate properly.”

“You believed me,” Freddie said, surprisingly soft. “That was...Well, a surprise in itself, Brian.”

  
  


He didn’t expect to like the sound of his own name so much, coming from Freddie.

The silence was more comfortable this time. Brian’s gaze drifted to the sky, to the few clouds overhead. It was sweltering out, his curls already plastered to his forehead.

And then Freddie spoke again, quietly, seriously; “I trust you.”

Three small, simple words; words he’d heard from friends and family for years, but they hit hard now. His eyes stung, and Brian told himself not to be such a sentimental fool, but he couldn’t help it. Freddie so clearly trusted Roger and John, and Brian had been glad of it, but he wanted Freddie to trust _him_ too. He wanted to do right by him.

Freddie was smiling, his teeth just poking out.

Brian kissed him so forcefully they nearly fell off the bench.

He wondered if Freddie would jerk back, or slap him. He wondered if Freddie would draw away again.

Instead, when Brian hauled Freddie onto his lap, Freddie let him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The council chamber was terribly stuffy, even with the windows open. The servants had carted in jugs of iced water, wine and fruit juice. Everyone, even the most conservative or council members, was dressed lightly.

All the same, Roger felt half-asleep with the heat. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair; his skin was tingling awfully and he wanted nothing more than to jump into one of the cold pools and stay there until nightfall.

But they had a wedding to plan, so needs must.

Freddie looked dreadfully bored as the council babbled on; looking quite lost when they spoke about the temples and gods. That was another thing they’d have to bring him up to speed on, they had entirely different religions.

“King Norman Sheffield has accepted your invitation,” Miami said with a dry smile.

“Lovely,” Brian said flatly.

No one looked happy- well, no, Freddie didn’t look as annoyed as everyone else, seeing as he’d never met the man, only heard tales from them. Freddie poured himself more water, drinking gratefully. John fanned himself, sighing.

“Will your family be coming, Your Highness?” Miami asked Freddie.

Freddie paused, idly swirling his water around. He was frowning, but it slowly changed into an outright vicious smile.

“I can only invite them,” he said, overly-sweet. “It’s up to them if they come or not.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Roger groaned in relief as he floated in the cool water of the pool. Freddie sat by the edge, swinging his legs in the water with John. Brian floated next to Roger. The children were due any minute, so Roger took the opportunity to ask what he’d been thinking since the meeting.

“Do you _really_ want your family to come, Fred?” he asked doubtfully. He supposed it was only to be expected, it would be bizarre of them to not at least _offer,_ but he didn’t exactly relish the thought. “I suppose if Brian commands it…”

And there was that vicious smile again.

“I want to see the looks on their faces,” Freddie said. “I want to see them realise they don’t control me anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: the wedding guests arrive, the wedding itself and (finally) the wedding night.
> 
> If anyone wants to yell at me about Queen, I'm on tumblr! @i-lay-my-life-before-queen


	4. The Emperor's Greatest Treasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding finally arrives. As it turns out, the wedding night is nothing to be feared after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 👏 can't 👏 write 👏 smut 👏 but 👏 I 👏 tried!
> 
> In which the Bulsaras (and Sheffield) get put in their place, we have the wedding at last, and the wedding night.
> 
> Songs I listened to while writing this chapter  
> "Kings and Queens" (Ava Max)  
> "El Tango De Roxanne" (from the Moulin Rouge soundtrack)  
> "March of the Black Queen" (Queen)  
> "Speechless" (Naomi Scott)  
> "Do I Wanna Know" (Arctic Monkeys)  
> "Crazy In Love" (Beyonce, the slow remix)  
> Not necessarily in that order 😂

__

_“Forget your singalongs and your lullabies, surrender to the city of the fireflies. Dance with the devil, in beat with the band; to hell with all of you, hand-in-hand.”_ \- March Of The Black Queen, _Queen_

  
  
  


Overall, it took nearly six months to plan the wedding and in that time, Brian had the honour of watching Freddie open up more and more, trusting them not to hurt him, trusting them enough to tell them about his life. He went from flinching if they moved too fast, to happily walking arm in arm with them.

And it wasn’t just them: Freddie ended up charming the whole city. Courtiers smiled as he passed, servants tripped over themselves to help him. When they went out in public, Freddie smiled and waved with the rest of them, still ducking his head shyly when their people called his name.

“You seem happier,” Brian said, a little cautiously. 

Freddie looked up at him, beaming. “I am.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Despite Freddie’s growing confidence, when King Norman and his entourage arrived, Brian kept Freddie close, giving strict orders to the guards that, as per usual, King Norman was not to be left alone with his wives, nor with Freddie.

“Do I have to kneel to him?” Freddie asked. “I’m not an Empress.”

“As my fiance, you just have to curtsy,” Brian reassured him as they all made their way down to the palace gates. “And remember, if he at all makes you uncomfortable, tell me.”

Freddie nodded, looking more concerned with each passing moment. They all took their places; Brian stepped forward, towards the very front. Roger, John and Freddie stood just behind him, his wives careful to keep Freddie in between them. The children, as custom decreed, were slightly off to the side, watched over by their nannies and nurses. None of them knew how Norman would react to a new Empress, a new Omega, but one thing was for sure: none of them trusted him to behave for long.

Brian was every inch the powerful Emperor today: he wore his ceremonial crown, his sword was strapped to his hip, his clothes were sewn with so many jewels he glittered and shimmered as he moved. Roger and John had their matching crowns, Freddie had a new cornet, a gift from Brian; all four of them wore the green and silver of Ilios.

Soon enough, King Norman’s entourage could be seen making their way up the hill. There was the King’s golden carriage, followed by five smaller carriages; his own courtiers, servants and slaves. Every carriage was weighed down with luggage.

The carriages stopped just inside the gate, and King Norman hopped down from his own, graceful as always. He strode ahead, leaving the servants and slaves to help his wives and children down from the carriage.

“Emperor Brian!” he called cheerfully. “Good day to you, sir.”

“And you as well, Your Grace.” Brian was well practiced in not showing his disgust as he shook Norman’s hand. His two Queens followed silently behind him; Elizabeth, popularly known as Eliza, and Leia. Their gowns were translucent, pink for Eliza, lilac for Leia; sections of the fabric cut out around their hips and stomach. They wore matching tiaras and matching armlets, engraved with Norman’s royal sigil.

They looked uncomfortably like slaves. All they were missing was the leather collars, typically worn by slaves in Norman’s kingdom. He could see the slaves among the servants, scantily dressed, many of them barefoot and all wearing matching collars, being shoved and ordered around, barked at like dogs: the charms on the collars all declared if the slave was an Omega or Beta. Norman’s children, the three young Princes, were being looked after by servants; whenever a slave so much as glanced at them, the nanny in charge shouted at them.

If Brian could slit this man’s throat…

“Empress Roger, you look as beautiful as ever,” Norman said. Roger offered a shallow curtsy, his eyes narrowing as Norman kissed his knuckles. Still smiling, Norman kissed John’s knuckles, offering a similar compliment. Finally, he glanced at Freddie; he looked him up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on Freddie’s hips and waist, eyes shining as he took in Freddie’s face.

“Prince Freddie Bulsara,” Norman said slowly, like he was trying out the name. “You’re as radiant as they say.”

Looking uncertain, Freddie curtsied. “Thank you, sir,” he said quietly. John scowled and Roger drew himself up, scooting in even closer, hovering protectively.

Brian had to bite back a growl when Norman kissed Freddie’s knuckles; he didn’t let go of the Omega’s hand, he held onto it, lightly rubbing his thumb over Freddie’s skin.

“Brian, my friend, I thought you were going to Xerxes to take a courtesan?” he laughed.

Brian clenched his fists, marching over. “I took a wife instead,” he said, pointedly looking at Norman and Freddie’s joined hands. Thankfully, Norman took the hint and let Freddie go.

“Save some beauty for the rest of us,” Norman said, clapping Brian on the back. “You’ve three of the most beautiful Omegas in the world, the rest of us don’t stand a chance, eh?”

Brian wondered if his smile looked as insincere as it felt. The Duke Ray Foster stepped forward, his grip on his wife’s arm tight enough to bruise.

“Good to see you again, Your Majesty,” Foster said.

“You as well, sir.”

He spun around when he heard Roger growl. Norman was just pulling away from Freddie, smiling that infuriatingly charming smile. Fredie was blushing terribly, looking sickened. John had paled drastically, eyes wide, but Roger looked seconds away from killing the King where he stood.

Norman chuckled, turning away, and Brian didn’t miss how the King’s hand lingered at Freddie’s hip.

Still smiling, Norman turned back to his entourage, barking at the servants and slaves, gesturing for his wives and children to join him. Brian had to wait until Foster and his wife, Julie, and all their children had performed their greetings before he could find out what had happened.

“What did he say?” Brian quietly demanded. “What did he do?”

They led the way back inside. Freddie swallowed heavily, his hand lingering at his necklaces, brushing uncertainly over his white-gold collar.

“He said it was a pity,” Roger hissed. “Apparently, he’s sure Freddie would look divine on his knees.”

Brian growled, fueled by instinct, turning around to run Norman through with his sword here and now- but John grabbed his arm, squeezing tightly.

“You can’t,” John said. “Not yet, love. Not here. Not like this.”

Brian knew that, but it didn’t make anything better. Still growling, he wrapped an arm around Freddie’s waist, pulling him in as close as he could.

“That does it,” Brian snarled. “I want the three of you to go to our rooms- Freddie’s rooms, whichever- and stay there until I call you. I don’t want him or Ray talking to you unless strictly necessary. I’ll tell them one of you is ill and you’ve gone to rest.” He was shaking, he was so furious. “And I’ll be having a discussion with Norman about respecting another Alpha’s Omega.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Norman must have known what this meeting was about, because he was clearly tense. As usual, Foster followed in his wake. Miami hovered behind Brian protectively, face stony. Loyal as he was, Brian was sure he could have asked Miami to kill Norman himself, and the older Alpha would gladly do it.

But not now. Not today.

But some day _soon,_ damn it.

“Roger isn’t one for lying,” Brian said coldly. “So do you care to explain why you said Freddie- _my Freddie-_ would look _divine on his knees?_ ”

“A harmless bit of flirting, Your Majesty,” Norman said, raising his hands placatingly. “He’s a pretty little thing.”

“He is _mine._ In a week’s time, he will be my Empress. Understand that? _Empress,_ not a courtesan, and you would do well to remember that, Norman.”

Foster scowled at his feet, an angry flush to his cheeks. Norman’s face could have been carved from stone.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Norman said, slightly stiff. His eyes darkened. “I assure you, it was just flirting. A joke. He was wearing a collar-”

_“It was a necklace!”_ Brian slammed his hands down on the table, gratified when Norman and Foster flinched back. “And if I ever catch you insinuating things like this again, you’ll never be welcomed back in Ilios.” His eyes narrowed, his hand itched to grab his sword. “I am not an ally you want to lose.”

“Of course not, Brian, my friend. You know I value our alliance.”

“Then with all due respect, Norman, you’d better leave my Omegas alone.”

Slowly, Norman nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

If only Brian could believe him.

All the same, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “Then you may go and continue settling in.”

They rose to their feet and bowed low, momentarily dropping to their knees; they backed out of the room, knowing better than to turn their backs on him.

“He’s a snake, that one,” Miami said. He tapped his own sword. “I’d like to make him wriggle like one.”

Brian sighed, setting his crown on the table. “Oh believe me, Miami, so would I. But not yet.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Freddie paced nervously until Roger pulled him down onto his lap.

“It’s alright,” Roger said, holding him close. “Brian won’t let him get away with saying that shit.”

It helped, but Freddie still fumbled with his collar and threw it to the ground, twisting about to press his face against Roger’s shoulder. John’s hand rested on his back, gently rubbing in circles.

“He’s got some nerve,” Roger said, scowling.

“He’s sick,” John snarled. “That’s what he is.”

“I don’t want to think about him,” Freddie said. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course.” John stopped rubbing his back, but didn’t remove his hand. “We could order some lunch while we wait for Brian?”

Freddie wasn’t all that hungry, but he supposed it would at least be something to do. A distraction. “Alright,” he said, and John went to the doors, calling for the servants.

“I can think of some more fun distractions,” Roger murmured against his neck. His hand rested on Freddie’s thigh and, laughing, Freddie slapped it away.

“You’re impossible,” he said fondly.

“I’m not hearing a _no…_ ”

“Maybe after lunch, darling.”

Roger’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his grin widening. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said cheerfully.

“Do you ever stop?” John asked, amused and exasperated. He lightly slapped Roger on the back of the head, reclaiming his seat. 

“Never,” Roger grinned. “I’ve three gorgeous spouses, can you blame me.”

“You’ve two, darling,” Freddie corrected him.

“Three,” Roger said firmly, kissing him. “You’re mine too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


At the welcoming banquet that night, Freddie did his level best to stay away from Norman Sheffield. Whenever the King glanced at him, his skin crawled. It wasn’t just how he’d spoken to Freddie: he saw how Norman treated every Omega he came across, leering and touching, telling those ‘jokes’. He saw how he treated his own wives, and it made Freddie sick.

But as the desserts were brought out, Norman approached him, his hands behind his back.

“Your Highness,” he said, and bowed. Freddie knew he was supposed to offer his hand, but he kept his hands firmly in his lap, clenched into fists.

“Sire,” Freddie said, glancing away. “Good evening.”

“I’d like to apologise, my dear,” Norman said, and Freddie looked at him with surprise. The King was smiling gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he continued. “I assure you, it was just flirting, a little joke. With an Omega as lovely as you- well, I couldn’t quite help myself.”

_“A pity,” Norman murmured, his hand firmly on Freddie’s hip. “I’m sure you’d look divine on your knees.”_

Freddie barely held back a shudder.

“I’m flattered,” he lied.

Norman nodded, his smile growing ever so slightly. “Might I have a dance later?”

_Absolutely bloody not._ “I’m not much for dancing,” Freddie lied again. “I wasn’t taught much in Xerxes.” That part, at least, wasn’t a lie at all.

Norman’s eyes dimmed. “Ah, more’s the pity.” He bowed again. “Have a lovely evening, Your Highness.” So said, he left, going back to his wives.

Coming from anyone else, Freddie would have been inclined to believe him sincere. But he’d been told far too much about Norman Sheffield to blindly trust him. 

Besides, as Freddie watched Queen Eliza and Queen Leia, in their skimpy gowns and armlets, forced to kneel by their husband’s feet as he idly petted and groped them...Well, Freddie couldn’t believe him at all.

He wondered if he should take to hiding a dagger in his clothes.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Freddie _definitely_ wondered about hiding a dagger the day his family were due to arrive. They’d accepted the invitation, and although Freddie had hoped they would, he still felt sick.

But he wasn’t little Prince Farrokh Bulsara anymore, beaten into submission, locked away from the world. He was Freddie, the Emperor’s fiance; he was engaged to three of the most powerful people in the world.

Here, people loved him. Here, people smiled when they saw him walk by. No one would even dream of hitting him.

He wondered if his family would be so stupid as to not understand that.

But Freddie had a point to prove to them. He wasn’t their tool, their toy, their bargaining chip anymore. He had people who truly loved him now, people who believed in him.

They didn’t control him anymore.

He knew they’d expect to see him in his Xerxian clothes: the long kurtas, the veils, the covering sleeves and high collars.

He chose this Iliosian gown on purpose. He couldn’t help but smile when he looked in the mirror. Everything about his appearance was sure to scandalise his family, shock them senseless.

A part of him whispered that it was sure to drive his fiances insane too, but for an entirely different reason.

His hair hung loose down to his shoulders, threaded through with diamonds, bound only by the circlet Brian had given him. His bracelets clinked together as he moved, his silver armlet was shaped like leaves. His eyes were outlined with kohl, his eyelids shimmered with silver cosmetics.

The soft green and silver gown had only one shoulder strap, pinned in place with a diamond brooch; it was entirely backless, with a slit up each side of the skirt, reaching his hips. The bodice was mostly sheer lace, giving a clear look at his waist and stomach, just _barely_ hiding his chest. His nails were painted a deep green, almost black at first glance. Every piece of jewellery he wore was a gift from the boys, or well-wishers, people who hoped he’d put in a good word for them with Brian.

People here fully expected Brian to listen to him. It still made his mind reel. Why would the Emperor listen to Freddie of all people?

“You look stunning, my lord,” Abigail said brightly.

“Thank you, dear,” Freddie said. The more he looked in the mirror, the more he smiled. It was easily the most skin he’d ever shown; a part of him still whispered that he should be horribly embarrassed and ashamed of himself. The rest of him said he looked pretty damn wonderful.

He kept looking, kept expecting some flaw to suddenly reveal itself and ruin the whole image, but for once he found nothing. He _liked_ how he looked.

There was a knock on his bedroom door, and a steward called, “Prince Freddie, their Majesties are here.”

“Send them in,” Freddie called back, barely biting back a grin as the doors opened. 

“Oh wow,” John said and Freddie couldn’t help but grin this time. He caught their gazes in the mirror and winked, turning around to face them.

“What do you think, darlings?” he asked. He twirled, fully delighted when Roger gave a barely audible groan. The watching servants all ducked their heads, smiling, some of them badly hiding their giggles.

Brian came forward and kissed him, his hands resting on Freddie’s hips, his fingers just skimming the bare skin.

“You’re trouble,” he said warmly. “I fully blame Roger.”

“I’ll happily take credit for this,” Roger said, noticeably blushing. When Brian stepped back, Roger kissed him so deeply that Freddie nearly staggered back.

“And I’ll happily rip that off you later,” Roger whispered to him.

“Later,” Freddie promised, gently removing Roger’s hands. John was still gaping and blushing; he blushed all the more when Freddie grinned at him and linked arms with him.

“I’m surrounded by minxes,” Brian said tiredly, but he was grinning widely. “You’re all trouble.”

“We’d be boring otherwise,” Roger said, taking his hand. Brian rolled his eyes, leading the way out.

“Come on then, loves, let’s greet our guests.”

“Are you ready?” John asked Freddie.

“Not in the least,” Freddie admitted. He held his head high and smiled. “But I don’t think they are either.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


John wanted to laugh at the looks on the Bulsaras’ faces. Jer gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth, before hastily kneeling in time with the others. Bomi’s eyes glinted with fury, his teeth grit. Prince Sepehr was bright red and John heard him growl; Prince Amjad, King Jaidev’s eldest Alpha son and heir, outright choked, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away from Freddie, though the sight only seemed to infuriate him more and more with each passing second. 

All of them looked stunned; Freddie’s aunts, his cousins. The only one smiling was Princess Kashmira.

“Welcome to Ilios,” Brian said; his voice was warm, but his eyes were ice cold. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

Finally, Amjad found his voice. “We did, Your Majesty, thank you,” he said, sounding strangled. Smiling, Brian gestured for them to rise and they did, some with ease, some with difficulty. Kashmira bounced on the balls of her feet, reminding John of Freddie in her excitement; Freddie smiled at her and Kashmira totally lit up.

At least one of them seemed sincerely happy for him. John didn’t doubt the rest of them still saw Freddie as some sort of toy.

He’d take great delight in putting them in their place.

  
  
  
  
  
  


As his family approached, Freddie held himself stiffly, fighting the instinct to kneel, to fall to his knees and not look at them until they said so. For a moment, under their furious gazes, his knees actually buckled.

But with his fiances and step-children by his side, Freddie steeled himself and stood up straight; he mimicked Roger and John’s posture, shoulders back, hands lightly folded on his stomach, head held high.

“Farrokh,” Bomi said stiffly. 

“Papa,” Freddie answered, careful to sound detached. “You look well.”

“What are you _wearing,_ child?” Sepehr demanded in Xerxian. “You’re practically naked!”

Freddie shrugged, flicking his hair back. “I don’t know why you’re so upset,” he replied in kind. “If I was a courtesan, _as you intended,_ I wouldn’t be wearing anything at all.” He openly snarled at them, triumphant at their looks of shock. “I would be collared and leashed, led around like a dog. I would be less than a pet, if you had your way.”

“How dare you speak to us-”

“I’d like to remind you all, that I will be an Empress in three days,” Freddie snapped, switching back to Iliosian. His family all paled, frightened eyes going to Brian. The Emperor smiled almost innocently, happy to let Freddie take the lead.

“Be that as it may,” Bomi said stiffly. “You are still my child and you will-”

“I’m not your child,” Freddie interrupted. Despite it all, it _hurt._ Because he knew it was true. “You never treated me like your child. I was a trophy. I was something to take your anger out on.” He stepped back from them, reminding himself that they had no power over him anymore. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told them sweetly, and he meant it. “I’m glad. I wanted to see you realise I’m not your toy anymore.”

“Farrokh…” Jer looked at him so sorrowfully, tears in her eyes. Tears that once would have had Freddie on his knees, begging for forgiveness, begging her to not let Jaidev beat him, begging her to not lock him away again. 

Not anymore.

“It’s Freddie,” he said coldly. With a genuine smile, he held his hand out. “Kashmira, darling, will you walk with me?”

“Of course, Fred,” his sister said cheerfully. She practically skipped to him, taking his hand with a smile.

Freddie turned away from the Bulsaras, shooting them one last smile. “The servants will see to your needs,” he said, still overly-sweet. “You’ll excuse me.”

“And I’d like to speak with you as well,” Brian said, still smiling. His finger tapped his sword hilt. “About your proposal for a trade route.”

Now, at least, Bomi and his brothers had the sense to look nervous. Still smiling, Freddie led Kashmira inside.

As soon as they were over the threshold, and surrounded by noise, Kashmira leaned in to hurriedly whisper, “You’re safe? You _promise_ you’re safe? They’re kind?”

“They are, darling,” Freddie promised her. “And I am. I’m happy here, and I’m safe, I promise.”

Kashmira breathed out in relief, gripping his arm. “Good,” she said. “I was worried about you.”

This time though, there was no need for her to be worried, and it made Freddie giddy. He was safe. He was happy. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Freddie felt close to laughing as John spun him about on the dance floor.

“I’m proud of you,” John told him, smiling. “You did beautifully, sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe I spoke to them like that,” Freddie admitted. He laughed as John momentarily lifted him, settling him back down with a twirl. “I thought they were going to kill me, darling!”

John shook his head, pulling Freddie close against him. “We won’t let them hurt you again,” he said softly. “I promise you, Fred.” His smile turned shy, he wasn’t quite able to meet Freddie’s eyes. “I love you. We all do.”

For a moment, Freddie wondered if he’d heard that correctly. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep after all and was dreaming?

But no, John was still smiling shyly, hopefully.

Freddie kissed him, ignoring the wolf-whistles and cheers. “I love you too,” he said.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Brian grinned as Freddie, flushed and laughing, flung his arms around him. Ignoring the staring courtiers, Brian pulled his fiance onto his lap. Only two seats away, Sepehr Bulsara growled.

“You’re in a good mood,” Brian said, stroking over Freddie’s hip.

“I love you,” Freddie said brightly. “You, John and Roger. I love you.”

Just the words to have Brian grip him tightly and pull him into a kiss, his hand tugging on Freddie’s hair. His hand slipped just inside Freddie’s gown, fingers trailing over his thigh.

“I love you,” Brian said, pressing their foreheads together, grinning as Freddie caught his breath. “I love you so much, Fred.”

Freddie grinned at him; for once, he didn’t seem embarrassed by the attention. For once, he didn’t glance nervously at the watching crowd. This time, he stayed right where he was, smiling and smiling, eyes shining.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Roger wondered what had John, Freddie and Brian smiling so widely, but then Freddie hugged him from behind, his chin resting on Roger’s shoulder.

“I love you, Roggie,” he said gently and Roger linked their hands together, unable to keep the grin off his face.

“I love you too, Freddie,” he said, twisting around to pull Freddie into his arms. He could see the Bulsaras glaring at him, barring Kashmira, who looked far too amused. He could see King Norman leering and the Duke Ray Foster frowning; he could see John and Brian dancing together, glancing their way and smiling.

“Are you still going to rip this gown off me?” Freddie asked, oh so innocent. Roger growled, his grip tightening, holding Freddie as close as he could.

“Gladly, darling.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


When John knocked on the door, he could already hear breathless whimpers and gasps.

“Rog? Fred? Can I come in?”

“Come in, love,” Roger called and John quickly slipped into Freddie’s bedroom, grinning at the sight that greeted him.

Roger and Freddie’s gowns were on the floor, their jewellery and shoes scattered everywhere. Roger sat on the edge of the bed, Freddie on his lap, facing the door; he was rutting against Roger’s leg while Roger played with his nipples, twisting and pinching until Freddie moaned, throwing his head back. John could see the slick on Freddie’s thigh, smeared across Roger’s leg. Every time he reached down to touch himself, Roger slapped his hand away.

“Care to join us?” Roger asked; he managed to sound casual, but his face was bright pink. Freddie slowed down, blushing more than ever when he noticed how John was staring.

“I’m just here for a while,” John said as he approached. “Poor Brimi’s quite riled up, one of us needs to look after him.”

“Fair,” Roger laughed. He lightly bit at Freddie’s neck, twisting a nipple so harshly that Freddie’s hips bucked, a high-pitched moan escaping him.

“Poor thing,” John said, leaning down to kiss him. He pulled back, smiling. “I always want to smack Roger when he does this to me.” He dropped to his knees. “May I, Rog?”

“Go ahead,” Roger said. His hands dropped to Freddie’s hips, guiding him into going faster. The young Omega sobbed, grinding down. “I’ve got all night with him.”

_Three days,_ John reminded himself as he took Freddie into his mouth. _Three more days and he’s ours._

  
  
  
  
  
  


The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear, not a cloud in the sky. It was the sort of weather everyone prayed for on their wedding, but Freddie still felt terribly nervous, barely able to eat any breakfast.

Weddings and funerals were some of the only times Iliosian Omegas were expected to wear a veil; Freddie’s was light and sheer, decorated with tiny pearls in floral patterns, held in place by a thin gold circlet; the front of the veil covered his face, reaching down to his collarbones, the train was so long it took five of the young Omega lords assigned to him to carry it. The gown itself was white silk with gold embroidery and pearl pins, the slashed sleeves nearly reached the ground; the gold sash held the gown tight against his waist. 

The servants fetched the jewellery sent by Brian, the traditional wedding jewellery for the May family: three gold necklaces studded with pearls, pearl and diamonds earrings and matching bracelets and rings, even an anklet though no one could see it. There were no slits or sheer lace this time; the gown bared his shoulders, but that was it, it was more conservative than his previous Iliosian gowns.

The bouquet was white lilies, so large that Freddie struggled to keep a good grip on it. He clung to it tightly, partly afraid of dropping it, partly to try and steady himself.

Because the Bulsaras had accepted the invitation, it was expected that Bomi would walk Freddie down the aisle, but Freddie had no intention of saying much to him, not unless he definitely had to.

So when Bomi met him just outside the temple, Freddie was silent, watching his father. Was there any joy or pride in Bomi’s eyes? They lacked the usual disapproval, but he still looked stern. Still angry, no doubt, that Brian refused to shower their family and kingdom in riches. More than likely still furious that Freddie had scolded them, let alone in front of everyone.

Bomi offered his arm and Freddie took it, allowing his father to escort him inside. He could hear music playing, could hear the whole court speaking; servants rushed ahead of them to scatter pink rose petals in their wake.

“You look exquisite, child,” Bomi whispered to him as they walked down the aisle. Freddie looked at the floor, at the scattered rose petals.

Far too little, far too late, but Freddie gave a small nod and said, “Thank you,” all the same. He couldn’t find it in himself to say _Papa_ anymore.

But then he looked up and saw his fiances waiting at the altar, and all thoughts of the Bulsaras were forgotten. He lit up, wishing dearly to pick up the pace and rush to them, but he forced himself to walk slowly, gracefully, and he was thrilled to see how they all beamed at the sight of him. All of them were dressed in white and gold, all of them decked out in the crown jewels; Brian’s crown was so large, so laden down with jewels that it made Freddie’s neck ache in sympathy. As they often did, Roger and John wore matching coronets, glittering with diamonds.

Brian stood up from his throne and held out his hand to Freddie. Freddie passed the bouquet to yet another pair of servants, students at this temple; he let go of Bomi and took Brian’s hand, and the Emperor escorted him to his place.

As custom decreed, Freddie, John and Roger all knelt on large, soft pillows, each one large enough for at least two people to comfortably sit on. Roger and John wore veils too, but theirs were shorter and didn’t cover their faces. As the newest bride, Freddie knelt at Brian’s feet, while Roger and John knelt on either side of their Alpha. Brian reclaimed his seat and, as the priest droned on, Brian idly patted their shoulders or touched their hair.

Had it been anyone else, perhaps it would have irritated Freddie. Perhaps he’d have felt like a pet.

Instead, he felt safe.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Brian could admit he was impatient for the ceremony to end. He wanted to finally be able to introduce Freddie as his bride, to proudly say he had three Empresses, each of them kind and clever and brave, each of them so lovely that other monarchs could only watch in jealousy.

_Mine,_ his instincts purred as his fingers brushed over Freddie’s shoulder, but not quite, not yet.

In a matter of hours though…

Finally, the priest said; “Your Majesty, my Emperor Brian May, do you take this Omega as your bride?”

Brian stood and rested a hand on his heart. “I do,” he said, loud and clear.

Smiling, the priest repeated the question. “Your Majesty, my Empress Roger May, do you take this Omega as your bride?”

Roger stood and flipped his hair off his shoulders, grinning, and placed a hand on his heart. “I do,” he echoed.

“And Your Majesty, my Empress John May, do you take this Omega as your bride?”

John’s hand skimmed Freddie’s back as he stood and placed a hand over his heart. “I do,” he said, smiling sweetly, grinning widely enough to show the little gap in his teeth.

The priest nodded and looked down to Freddie. “Finally, do you, Prince Freddie Bulsara, take this Alpha and these Omegas as your husband and wives? Do you vow to honour, serve and obey them, and the Empire?”

Brian found himself holding his breath. Despite everything, a tiny part of him wondered if Freddie would say no and try to flee.

But Freddie stood, as graceful as the cats he so adored. As they’d rehearsed, he placed both of his hands over his heart.

“I do,” he said, voice echoing through the temple, the loudest Brian had ever heard him speak.

“Then I pronounce you married in the eyes of the gods and men,” the priest said. He blessed them all in turn and faced Brian. “You may unveil your bride, Your Majesty.”

Slowly, Brian lifted Freddie’s veil from his face. His fiance’s- no, his _wife’s,_ big brown eyes met his; his smile was shy and sweet, lightly biting his lip and ducking his head.

As Brian kissed him, those assembled began to clap; Roger and John waited, not quite patiently, for Brian to step back so they could kiss their new bride in turn.

“I love you,” Brian told him, offering Freddie his arm. Smiling, Freddie took it. John took Freddie’s free arm, and Roger took Brian’s.

Freddie lit up, eyes shining. “I love you too, darling,” he said. “All of you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


There was something truly wonderful about watching everyone take their turn to kneel at Freddie’s feet and offer their congratulations. They’d brought in the new throne, Freddie’s now, and he took his seat next to Brian.

One by one, the guests all knelt and kissed Freddie’s knuckles, murmuring “Congratulations, Your Majesty,” or “Congratulations, my Empress.”

Roger grinned outright when King Norman, Ray Foster, the more conservative members of the council and court, and the Bulsaras took their turns. Here they were, these people who thought Omegas were useless, having to kneel at Freddie’s feet.

If you asked him, it was glorious.

“Your grin is positively evil, darling,” Freddie murmured.

“Can you really blame me?” Roger asked. Freddie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling all the same.

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was well past midnight when the party came to an end. It was down to Brian to call an end to it. When he rose, not for the first time tonight, everyone fell silent. Considering the late hour, they knew what to expect.

“My honoured guests,” Brian said. “Thank you all for celebrating with us today, and sharing our joy. However, I must now call this feast to an end; it is time for my wives and I to retire to bed.”

The cheers rang out, mostly from the Alphas. Miami raised his wine goblet in a silent toast, and Brian turned to his Empresses.

“You go ahead, darlings,” he said quietly. “I’ll be with you shortly.”

The three of them rose, Freddie somewhat shakily, and curtsied to him. Wordlessly, John and Roger led Freddie out, their servants all hurrying in their wake. The assembled crowd called out compliments and jokes as they passed, some shouting advice.

“Three Omegas,” Norman laughed. “You’re a lucky Alpha, Your Majesty.”

“I am,” Brian said, and gestured for his servants to join him. “Good night to you all.”

He caught Kashmira’s eyes as he left; the young Alpha raised an eyebrow, almost in challenge, her eyes glinting in warning: _Look after my brother._ Brian inclined his head with a smile and Kashmira relaxed back into her seat.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Freddie hadn’t spent much time in Brian, Roger and John’s chambers- though he supposed they were his now too, something he’d known to expect all along, but it still felt like a shock.

The servants helped them all undress, cracking jokes about what was to come. Freddie smiled, but couldn’t find it in himself to joke back. He couldn’t even open his mouth.

Roger and John touching him was one thing. Giving himself to Brian, to all three of them, was quite another.

The nightgown he was expected to wear was very short, only brushing the ends of his thighs, so thin it didn’t hide much at all and it laced down the front, held closed with white ribbons, all the easier for Brian to slip it off him. He’d gone over this with Roger and John numerous times: as soon as Brian entered the room, they weren’t expected to touch him until Brian said so. It was tradition, a ceremony of sorts; although Brian otherwise treated them as equals, on nights like tonight, he was expected to be in charge, they were expected to obey.

All three of them were going to fuck him, Brian would knot and bond him.

He knew what to expect, but his heart was racing regardless.

“You may leave us,” Roger told the servants and they silently filed out one by one. As soon as they were gone, he took Freddie’s hand. “Are you alright, love?”

“I think so,” Freddie said, though he wasn’t sure at all. Truthfully, he wasn’t filled with terror the way he’d always expected to be, but that didn’t mean he felt confident.

“I know it’s frightening,” John said, hugging him from behind. “But remember, it’s truly nothing to be scared of. None of us are going to hurt you, and you can say no at any time.”

Roger brushed Freddie’s hair back, momentarily cupping his cheek, before he picked up a small goblet from the bedside table. It was filled nearly to the brim, with a dark pink drink, thick and nearly shimmering. It smelled strongly of fruit, roses and sugar, so sweet it made Freddie’s nose wrinkle.

“What is that?” he asked as John released him.

“Fertility potion,” Roger admitted apologetically. “You’ll have to drink it all.” Freddie frowned at it, but he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. He took the goblet and gulped the potion down as fast as he could, gagging on the sweetness. He managed the last mouthful and choked, his hands flying to his throat. The sweetness seemed stuck in his throat, coating his mouth and settling heavily in his stomach. He shivered in disgust, warmth suffusing him for a moment and quickly disappearing.

“Oh my _God,_ ” he gasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, not the most elegant of gestures. “Are you sure that’s not just sugar?”

“Quite sure,” John laughed lightly, though he looked sympathetic. “There’s water over-” Freddie needed no further prompting than that, marching to the table before John could finish, pouring and quickly downing a glass of water, still wincing and rubbing his throat. That drink was easily the sweetest thing he’d ever had, and it was _disgusting._

“I know, it’s disgusting,” Roger said, wrapping an arm around him. “Thankfully Brian doesn’t make us drink it.”

“I nearly threw it back up,” John said with a shrug.

Before Freddie could answer, there was a knock on the double-doors and a steward cried out, “His Majesty, the Emperor!”

Freddie froze, shivering again, for a whole new reason now. Wordlessly, Roger and John led him to the bed. As he’d been prepared for, as he was all too used to, Freddie knelt on the floor and dutifully lowered his head, his hands folded neatly in his lap. John and Roger sat on the bed, on either side of him, and they each gently laid a hand on his shoulders.

“We’re ready, Alpha,” Roger called. It was strange, Freddie thought, hearing Roger refer to Brian so formally; tradition or no, it didn’t sound quite right, coming from the feisty Omega, let alone to the Alpha that treated them as equals.

But Freddie didn’t have time to mull it over, because the doors opened and Brian strode in. Even in his robe and long nightgown, he managed to look elegant, regal. It was obvious, even now, who was in charge here.

Brian gently closed the door behind him and Freddie lowered his eyes to his lap again, waiting to be told what to do.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Alpha,” Roger said sweetly, and Brian couldn’t help but smile.

“Omega,” he answered, nearly chuckling; they were never so formal with one another, but needs must.

He approached carefully, conscious of how tense Freddie seemed. When he stopped in front of them, Roger and John stood, backing away to give Brian space. Brian held his hand out to Freddie.

“My Omega,” he said and then, “Freddie,” because he couldn’t stand to think Freddie was afraid of him all over again.

“Brian,” Freddie all but whispered, taking Brian’s hand. Brian gently pulled him to his feet; Freddie kept his eyes on the floor, cheeks already faintly pink. 

“If you want to slow down or stop at any time,” Brian said. “Then please tell us, Fred.”

Freddie nodded, and Brian leaned down to kiss him, gently tugging on the first ribbon of the gown- but then he backed away, an idea quickly forming.

“Rog, John, strip him.”

It wasn’t exactly protocol, but who was there to tell?

Roger and John looked faintly surprised for a moment, before bursting into identical grins. It wasn’t until Freddie nodded in permission that they approached, swiftly unlacing the gown while Brian watched. They easily slipped the short gown off Freddie’s shoulders; it slid down his body and landed on the floor with barely a sound, only the faintest rustle, leaving him standing there nude.

Brian’s breath caught and for a moment he felt frozen, taking in the sight before him.

“Beautiful,” he said gently. Freddie flushed much darker, unable to look at him. He squirmed, fists clenched, clearly resisting the urge to cover himself.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Roger agreed, kissing Freddie’s shoulder and neck, his hand skimming the Omega’s waist.

“Roger,” Brian said sternly, and Roger winked at him before stepping back. John, with a teasing smile, stayed by Freddie’s side, just short of touching him, until Brian growled in warning. John took a step back, chuckling outright. Brian lightly swatted him on the hip, before turning back to Freddie.

He hadn’t been lying, Freddie was gorgeous, slim with gentle curves to his hips, so tiny he looked like he could break in half, or be carried away by a stiff breeze. His black hair curled about his face, his eyes were closed, his cheeks bright pink; he clenched and unclenched his fists, waiting for Brian to do something, order something.

As he’d been dying to do, Brian pulled Freddie into his arms, kissing him deeply; his hands roamed eagerly over the Omega, stroking his waist and hips, cupping his arse and squeezing, delighting in Freddie’s muffled gasp. Easily, he lifted Freddie up, grinning when Freddie clung to him, startled.

“Roger, John, my darlings, get your clothes off,” Brian said, glancing at them over his shoulder. “And be quick about it.” He lay Freddie down while their wives quickly shed their nightgowns. Brian shucked his robe off, and allowed Roger and John to help him with his own nightgown, before he turned back to Freddie.

His wife lay where he’d set him down, on the centre of the bed. His eyes were wide, blushing even more than ever as he looked at them all, before quickly looking away.

“Hands and knees please, sweetheart,” Brian said gently, careful to keep it a request. Swallowing heavily, Freddie obliged. Brian sat on the end of the bed behind him, with Roger and John pressed against his sides.

Brian had to admit, even he felt nervous as he said, “Present yourself.”

He could see that Freddie was shivering again as he lowered himself, resting on his chest; there was a moment’s hesitation, where Brian wondered if he’d already made a mess of this, before Freddie reached back and spread himself with a barely-there whimper, presenting himself to the three of them.

Roger swore under his breath and John gave a tiny sigh. Brian shuffled forward, eyes glued to his Omega. His finger just brushed Freddie’s entrance, lightly rubbing; Freddie’s breathing hitched and Brian could already see slick gathering. His instincts drove him forward, and he got on his knees, his hands tight on Freddie’s hips, pulling the Omega, _his Omega,_ back against him, rutting against him, letting his erection brush between Freddie’s cheeks. Freddie whimpered again, squirming in his hold as a thin line of slick trickled down his thigh.

“Gorgeous,” Brian growled, nails digging into Freddie’s hips. Freddie gasped, dropping his hands and fisting at the sheets. “Gods, Freddie, you’re perfect.”

“Brian,” John said, already with an edge of desperation. He quickly corrected himself; “Alpha.”

“Impatient,” Brian said, though he could hardly judge. Reluctantly, he pulled back, though his hands stayed on Freddie’s arse, groping and kneading. “Are you okay, love?”

Freddie glanced back at him, hair falling about his face. “I’m okay,” he breathed.

“Good.” Brian’s finger prodded at his entrance again, teasing, stroking. “Promise to let us know if that changes. I _mean_ it, Freddie.” His voice was a growl, an order now; _“Promise me, Freddie, Omega; promise me.”_

“I promise,” Freddie gasped, hips rolling. “I promise, Alpha, I’ll tell you.”

Smiling, Brian slipped a finger into him, grinning outright when Freddie gasped, clenching down. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was already highly different from being with Roger and John. There was a new edge of authority there, and Freddie was hyper-aware that it was Brian, _an Alpha,_ with a finger in him, crooking and teasing until he hit that spot that made Freddie scream and clutch the covers, his hips jerking.

“Right there?” Brian asked, voice gentle again. 

“Yes,” Freddie panted as Brian hit it again- a prostate, wasn’t that what Roger had called it? He wasn’t sure how long Brian kept teasing him like that, but he already felt desperate by the time Brian slid a second finger in, stretching them out, opening Freddie up.

“Alpha.” Roger sounded strangled, and Freddie heard Brian’s breathless chuckle.

“You can touch each other,” Brian said. “But not me, and not Freddie. Not yet.”

It seemed to be enough for Roger and John; Freddie could hear soft noises, gasps and little moans. He wondered, for a moment, about trying to turn around, to see what his spouses were doing, but then Brian worked a third finger in and Freddie could only moan, clenching down on him, wanting Brian to _stay_ there, keep pressing that spot, keep gently thrusting in and out.

“You’re so wet,” Brian murmured against his back, leaning down and kissing a trail down his spine. Freddie was sure he must have been red as a tomato at this point, squirming and gasping; there was a stab of embarrassment at Brian’s words, he’d had it drilled into him that slick was something embarrassing and dirty, something to be ashamed of...But Brian, like Roger and John had, sounded happy about it, awed even.

It felt like forever, but all too soon when Brian pulled his fingers out. Freddie groaned, despite himself, at the loss, but tensed again when Brian’s hands settled on his hips again, his cock brushing against him.

“Ready, darling?” Brian asked, sounding much more like his usual gentle self.

Freddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t frightened. Of course he was. 

But this was _Brian,_ his Brian. His husband, his Alpha. He heard another muffled moan- John- and managed to open his eyes, glancing back at Brian. To his surprise, Brian’s face was bright red, strands of hair sticking to his forehead; his eyes were dark, trained on Freddie. Not as unruffled, as unaffected, as he’d sounded.

_But I didn’t do anything,_ Freddie thought. And yet Brian was clearly eager.

Somehow, that gave Freddie the confidence to smile.

“I’m ready,” he said, not quite a lie.

He still had to bite down on the covers as Brian slowly pushed into him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


It took every ounce of self control Brian had to not pound into Freddie, to not let his instincts completely take over; a large part of him cried out at him to _take, mark, claim,_ and he had to fight it back.

_Not yet,_ he reminded himself. _Be careful, be gentle._

The pace was slow at first, Brian gently asking, “Are you alright?” every few moments, and Freddie giving a strangled noise of acknowledgment each time, pushing back against Brian’s thrusts.

When Brian hit his prostate, Freddie screamed, hips jerking, back arching.

“Fucking hells,” Roger breathed. He was flat on his back, John gently grinding down on him. Both of them were watching intently, angled towards Brian and Freddie, and they both kept reaching out only to remember they couldn’t do anything yet.

“Soon,” Brian promised them, speeding up his thrusts, encouraged by Freddie’s breathless moans and cries. 

“Brian,” Freddie moaned, pressing his face down into the sheets. “Alpha- darling-”

“You’re okay, love,” Brian said, stroking his thigh. “I’ve got you, you’re alright.” Gods, he hoped that was true.

But Roger smiled knowingly. “Close, Freddie?” he all but purred.

Freddie nodded rapidly, clenching down on Brian. Brian instinctively sped up, growling. His nails dug into Freddie’s hips, leaving obvious marks, and his wife shrieked as Brian’s thrusts hit their mark, faster and harder. Biting back another growl, Brian reached underneath them and began to jerk Freddie off, trying to keep time with his thrusts. His Omega sobbed, hips jerking rapidly, tensing up.

“I- Brian, I can’t-” he sobbed. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Brian growled. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the instinct to bite down, to bond, to knot, as Freddie’s scent grew stronger.

One last thrust and Freddie came, screaming his name.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Freddie felt dazed, blinking his eyes open lazily. His limbs felt weak and shaky, and his legs fell further open as Brian thrust into him again, only a handful of times, before his Alpha came with a low groan of Freddie’s name, holding onto him even tighter.

Dazed as he was, Freddie frowned. Brian hadn’t bitten him, there was no knot. Why hadn’t he…?

“Brian?” he mumbled, forcing himself to open his eyes properly. Brian hadn’t pulled out, but he hadn’t knotted him.

“Not yet, love,” Brian said, giving him a lazy, tired smile. Freddie’s frown deepened and he hissed in discomfort as Brian pulled out.

Well then. He wasn’t a virgin anymore. The purity his family constantly preached about was gone now.

_Good riddance,_ Freddie thought, feeling more aware. He didn’t want to be defined by it anymore.

Gently, Brian turned him over so Freddie lay on his back.

“Still alright?” Brian asked, stroking his hair back. Freddie hummed in response, arching up into his hand.

“Fred, love?”

“I’m alright,” Freddie said, closing his eyes. Truth be told, he felt _wonderful._

Brian kissed him softly, quickly. “Good,” he said, and Freddie whined as his husband climbed off him entirely, but then Roger and John were on him and Freddie remembered properly: his oh-so important virginity, his first time, had to go to Brian. All three of them were going to fuck him, Brian was going to knot and bond him.

He’d expected Brian to knot him first, he’d thought Roger and John would have to wait for the knot to go down before they could touch him, but evidently not.

He gave a strangled moan and John pushed two fingers into him, pushing down on them. One thing Roger and John had been eager to show him was that Omegas were built to keep going.

“Finally,” John said, crooking his fingers and grinning when Freddie moaned. Roger gave a defeated huff as Brian pulled the Omega onto his lap.

“Impatient,” Brian laughed.

“So were you,” Roger pointed out. Freddie giggled tiredly when Brian pinched Roger’s hip, warning him to behave.

Before he could think of something to say, John was pushing into him and Freddie whimpered, clapping a hand over his mouth. Everything still felt so sensitive, but John was setting a steady pace, not so quick and harsh as Brian, not so intense, but Freddie was moaning loudly and wrapping his arms around John’s shoulders all the same, pulling his wife down on top of him, holding him close.

“Love you,” John told him, kissing his mouth, his jaw, his neck. “Love you, Freddie.”

“Love you too,” Freddie gasped, whining as John pushed in deeper. Not quite so overwhelmed, he couldn’t quite ignore Roger and Brian watching them. Roger was whining, squirming on Brian’s lap and Freddie soon saw why: their Alpha had two fingers deep inside him, his free hand idly playing with Roger’s nipple; he kissed and nipped at Roger’s bond mark, grinning outright when Roger moaned.

“Enjoying the view, Omega?” Brian purred, slipping back into that very _Alpha_ tone of voice, and for a moment Freddie wasn’t sure which one of them he was speaking to, but then Roger gasped, _“Yes,”_ in response, his dark eyes trained on John and Freddie.

Perhaps it was a fit of madness, but Freddie held Roger’s gaze as he looped his legs around John’s waist, moaning as that pulled John in even deeper. Roger whined again, louder, impatient.

John gasped and laughed, turning Freddie back to face him.

“Now you’re getting it,” he said, grinning down at him. Freddie couldn’t help but grin back. It was definitely different with John than it was with Brian, and it felt like all the expected formalities were being forgotten, brushed aside, and Freddie couldn’t help but feel glad of it. He didn’t want a ceremony, he didn’t want this to feel so formal, like they were strangers playing a role.

He wanted _them._ Just his husband and wives.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Roger watched as John and Freddie came together, both of them gasping and moaning, clinging to each other. John hovered above Freddie on shaking arms, kissing all over their wife’s face.

They were beautiful together, soft and sweet, practically glowing.

Roger still wanted to push John aside and take Freddie; he reminded himself to wait, to be patient, to be fair. But gods damn it all, it was hard to cling to his senses when his spouses were all naked around him, when they all smelled like each other, when Brian had two fingers in him, working him open.

John finally lay on his back, next to Freddie, chest heaving. Smiling, he took Freddie’s hand and kissed his knuckles, his wrist, inhaling his scent.

“Are you still okay to keep going, Freddie?” Brian asked, sounding more like himself again.

Freddie nodded with a tired hum, eyes closed. “I’m okay,” he said.

Smiling, Brian patted Roger on the ass, gently nudging him off his lap. “Go on, Roggie,” he said, fond and amused. He kissed Roger’s cheek. “Hands and knees, okay?”

Roger nodded rapidly, quickly scrambling to Freddie’s side. He wasted no time in kissing his wife, pulling Freddie flush against him, kissing down his neck to his chest. He licked a nipple, grinning when Freddie gasped, pushing his chest up. Encouraged, Roger took it between his teeth, gently pulling and biting until Freddie was whimpering and tugging on Roger’s hair. Only then did Roger reach down, lazily jerking Freddie off.

“You’re doing so well, Fred,” Roger said, kissing him, running a thumb over Freddie’s cheek. He agreed with Brian’s sentiment; “You’re perfect.”

“Rog…”

“Nearly there,” Roger said gently. Freddie looked exhausted, and Roger couldn’t blame him. Carefully, he got Freddie onto his hands and knees. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Freddie said. His head hung low, his arms were trembling, and Roger slowly pushed into him, groaning at the tightness, the wet heat, the slick and come on his thighs.

Wasting no time, Roger immediately began to thrust into him, picking up the pace. Brian came around to kneel in front of Freddie, tilting Freddie’s chin up so he was level with Brian’s cock, not quite hard, but surely close.

“Just like we showed you, love,” Roger panted in his ear. “Show him what we taught you.”

He heard Freddie gulp, felt him tighten, but his fellow Omega obediently opened his mouth and took Brian’s length between his lips, beginning to suck him. Brian let out that lovely mix between a groan and growl, tugging on Freddie’s hair.

“Knew you’d be a bad influence, Rog,” he moaned, shallowly thrusting into Freddie’s mouth. Freddie whined around him, pushing back against Roger, moaning and clenching whenever Roger hit his prostate.

“Or a very good influence,” Roger quipped, speeding up. John, never one to just watch for long, reached under Freddie to play with his nipples, gently tease his cock while Freddie sobbed and moaned around Brian.

Eventually though, Brian had to pull back, gasping. “Fucking hells,” he breathed, steadying himself. Freddie dropped his head again, moaning louder and louder, crying Roger’s name.

It didn’t take long after that for Roger to finish, groaning Freddie’s name against the back of his neck, grinding against Freddie’s prostate as he came, which swiftly had Freddie falling over the edge again.

Roger desperately didn’t want to pull out. He wanted to stay like this, but Freddie wasn’t bonded yet, they weren’t finished yet. He still had to take Brian one more time, be knotted and bonded.

Still, Roger didn’t pull out until John gently tugged him away. Freddie whined weakly at the loss, his limbs shaking more than ever.

“Fred?” Brian stroked his back and Freddie nodded, struggling to catch his breath.

“I need a minute,” he mumbled.

“That’s okay.” Brian kept stroking his back in circles, keeping a steady rhythm. “Take your time, darling.”

Dazed as he was, Roger wasn’t sure how long it took Freddie to nod and say, “I’m okay.”

Needing no further prompting, Brian positioned himself behind Freddie and slid into him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Freddie groaned weakly as Brian pushed back into him. To be fair to his Alpha, he kept it slow, gentle; cautious even. If he was honest, he appreciated it, he needed it. 

He felt so _tired,_ so dazed and worn out, floating almost, not quite in his body. There was no hope of him falling asleep, but his limbs felt _heavy,_ tingling all over. His throat was raw, he couldn’t do much more than gently gasp, barely audible as Brian thrust into him.

Sex, it turned out, wasn’t the frightening and humiliating experience he’d been told it was.

He _liked_ it. He enjoyed it. Maybe that made him a whore after all, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore. He was exhausted, and he didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t ever want Brian, Roger and John to let go of him. He wanted _this,_ this overwhelming, almost giddy pleasure, so good it left him sobbing; he wanted this closeness, he wanted _them,_ and he wanted them to want him, a part of him delighting in the knowledge that they _did._

“Freddie…” Brian’s voice was a growl again, and Freddie sighed, closing his eyes. He let his instincts take over again, willing himself to submit; his own scent was suddenly overwhelming, even to himself and, with a downright animalistic noise, Brian flipped Freddie onto his back.

Freddie’s eyes flickered open weakly, confused. He was meant to be on his hands and knees for this, but Brian held him in place, speeding up; his scent grew in strength and Freddie braced himself.

As it turned out, there was no real preparing himself for an Alpha’s knot. He tensed, moaning, arching his back, falling over the edge again in seconds, sobbing Brian’s name as he came yet again.

He struggled to get his bearings, lying weakly on the bed as the knot continued to swell and Brian’s thrusts stuttered and slowed. Roger took Freddie’s right hand and John took his left, both of them murmuring to him, but Freddie was too tired and floating to quite understand what they were saying.

And then Brian bit down where his neck met his shoulder, biting so hard that Freddie yelped, weakly jerking against him, squeezing Roger and John’s hands, sighing weakly as Brian growled, _“Mine, my Omega, mine,”_ and came inside him one last time.

There was silence for a moment; the only real noise was Brian’s harsh breaths and Freddie’s quiet little gasps.

“Freddie? Sweetheart?” That was Brian calling him, but Freddie felt too tired to even open his eyes. “Fred, I need you to answer me. Are you okay?”

“...’Kay,” Freddie managed. He tried to catch his breath, feeling perhaps ridiculously bereft when Roger and John let go of his hands, but then Brian flipped them with ease, so that Brian lay on his back and Freddie rested on his chest. Yawning, Freddie lay his head on Brian’s chest, his neck throbbing, his whole body heavy, aftershock of pleasure making him tense and gasp. Roger and John lay down on either side of them, each of them taking his hands again.

“It’ll take a few minutes to go down,” Roger said gently, and it took Freddie’s exhausted brain a moment to realise he was talking about the knot. “We’ll have a bath, okay, darling?”

Freddie nodded with a tired hum, squeezing Roger’s hand, yawning when John played with his hair.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Brian asked worriedly, back to sounding like his usual self.

Freddie swallowed, forcing the words out properly; “I’m okay, darling.”

It seemed to reassure Brian, because he lay back with a relieved sigh, lazily stroking Freddie’s back. Freddie felt dangerously close to nodding off entirely.

It must have been blooming obvious too, because John kissed his temple and said, “Rest for now, Fred. We’ll wake you up, promise.”

He didn’t need any further encouragement. Gratefully, Freddie drifted off.

  
  
  
  
  
  


He was only asleep for about ten minutes when they woke him up, gently shaking him and calling his name until he opened his eyes. Freddie yawned and stretched with a worn out groan, his muscles protesting. Brian gently slid out of him, but Freddie still hissed in discomfort.

“Sorry, sorry.” Brian looked him over with clear concern. “Can you stand?”

Exhausted or not, Freddie rolled his eyes. “Are you joking?” he asked flatly. Roger snickered, lightly swatting his hip.

“Fair enough,” Brian said. Smiling, he lifted Freddie right up, carrying him to the adjoining bathroom. “Boys, will you grab our night clothes?”

“On it,” John chirped, heading for the wardrobes. Roger followed Brian and Freddie, flitting about the bathroom for their towels and robes, helping Brian fill the tub.

Freddie groaned in relief as they slipped into the hot water, slouching down until it covered his shoulders.

“That’s better,” he sighed. Brian chuckled fondly, pulling Freddie against his side. John quickly joined them, climbing in and lounging happily. Roger threw his head back, looking at the painted ceiling, idly playing with Freddie’s hair and John’s.

“You did so well,” Brian said, kissing Freddie’s cheek. “You did wonderfully, Freddie.”

Smiling, giddy, Freddie said “You weren’t so bad either, darling.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


The next morning, as they walked in for breakfast, everyone was staring, pointing and whispering. Perhaps Freddie should have been embarrassed: it was no secret what they’d been up to last night, his bond mark was there for everyone to see, his scent mixed with Brian’s. They knew what Freddie had been doing, what had been done to him.

But Freddie walked with his head held high, his hair pinned back to show the bond mark off; he smiled at everyone he passed, pointedly ignoring King Sheffield and his entourage, and his family, though he grinned at Kashmira.

Before they ate, Brian announced that Freddie’s coronation was due in a month. More celebrations, more ceremonies to handle. It made him tired just thinking about it.

And yet, Freddie felt sure he could handle it. That he could, as Roger said, so anything he set his mind to.

He laughed as Brian pressed his nose against the bond mark, inhaling deeply.

“Don’t worry, darling, I still smell like you,” Freddie said, reaching for the nearest platter of bacon.

“You do,” Brian said, clearly delighted.

“You're ours,” Roger said happily, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. John leaned forward to grin at him, his gaze constantly flickering to the bond mark. It still stung, still sensitive, as it would be for days to come. Frankly, Freddie’s whole _body_ felt sensitive.

He caught his parents’ gazes and waited for the usual wave of fear, the instinct to kneel and brace himself for the worst.

It didn’t come. 

Instead, Freddie smiled and sat up straight, adjusting his crown. 

As it turned out, they called him one of the Emperor’s greatest treasures too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried and therefore no one can judge me 😂
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone! This challenge (and AU as a whole) was a lot of fun 💕 If anyone wants to yell at me, I'm on tumblr: @i-lay-my-life-before-queen

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter should have the wedding night, I promise! I'm on tumblr @i-lay-my-life-before-queen if anyone wants to yell at me 😂


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